Mistress Marjorie said, "Slave, now you are going to be fucked."
"You are going to strap on a dildo?" Edward Kirkman asked.
"No, I am not going to fuck you with a dildo," she said.
"Then what are you going to fuck me with?" the slave asked.
"I am going to fuck your asshole with my whole fist."
"But, but that will RUIN me," the slave said in horror.
"Perhaps," the professional dominatrix bitch exclaimed.
She bound the man to the bed on his stomach so that his legs were forced open. Then she put a black leather glove on her right hand and greased it thoroughly.
The beautiful woman stood inside her torture chamber with her whip firmly clenched in her right hand.
The whip was a riding crop, a horse whip, like those used by jockeys to beat the living shit out of the haunches of their mounts during neck and neck homestretches out at the racetrack.
The whip was made of leather and fine imported bamboo.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch nodded at her diminutive female assistant and the little blonde in the nurse's uniform returned her gaze. Her hypnotic gaze.
The little girl shivered. She could sense that the beautiful woman with the whip was intrinsically superior in every way. The little girl feared the woman.
As a matter of fact, she feared the woman more than anything else in the whole wide world. That was probably the reason that the little girl in the white nurse's uniform loved the dominatrix bitch so much.
She sighed.
"Nurse Joanna?"
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie?"
"Bring in the next victim," the woman exclaimed.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch gave her riding crop a little squeeze. She squeezed at the handle of the whip so hard for a moment or two that each and every one of her knuckles turned white.
"Here he is," Nurse Joanna said, leading the man in the business suit into the torture chamber.
"Ummmmmmmmm, and quite a hunk he is too," Mistress Marjorie said.
The woman turned up one corner of her mouth, forming a half-smile of self-amusement.
"Yes, this is his first time in your torture chamber, so you may be wanting to ask him a few questions, Mistress Marjorie," Nurse Joanna exclaimed subserviently.
"Yes, yes, yes, I do, indeed, want to ask the sex slave a few questions," the shapely yet cruel woman said with a slow nod.
"I will b-b-b-b-b-b-b-be glad to answer any questions you m-m-m-m-m-might have, Mistress," the man said.
"What is your name?" the dominatrix bitch inquired.
"My name is Thomas Froelich," the submissive yet muscular man answered.
He was very good looking, and the dominatrix bitch could tell by the clothes he was wearing that he had a lot of money. She could tell that he certainly had the money to pay her bills
That's right. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch made her living hurting and humiliating people, and then charging them for it.
The beautiful woman was one of the richest and most influential women in all of New York City, and she had never had a "real" job in her entire life. All she had ever been was a professional dominatrix bitch.
And a good one too. Mistress Marjorie was the best.
"You may go now, Nurse Joanna," the leather-clad bitch said.
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie," Nurse Joanna replied.
The little blonde in the nurse's uniform left the room.
Only the dominatrix bitch and her new slave remained inside the creepy, damp torture chamber.
Although the room existed in a New York City apartment, there were no windows. When in that room a victim could not tell if it was daytime or night. The room was decorated so that it looked like a torture chamber right out of medieval times. The man was frightened, but he enjoyed being frightened. This Thomas Froelich could only become sexually aroused when he was afraid, when he was being hurt and humiliated by a gorgeous woman who was so obviously superior to himself. Just like Mommy used to be.
The windows had been painted black and the walls had been covered with a synthetic material that resembled cobblestones.
Dangling from the ceiling of the torture chamber by strings were what appeared to be human skulls.
Thomas Froelich wanted to ask the woman where she had gotten the human skulls, but he didn't have the guts to make this query.
The submissive hunk decided, after giving the matter a moment or two of thought, that he didn't want to know the answer.
"How old are you, slave?" the woman inquired.
"I am thirty-two years old," the huge man said...
"And please tell me why you need to be abused."
"Because my m-m-m-m-m-m-m-mother used to abuse me."
"I see, and you want all of your lovers to be just like Mommy, is that it?" she asked.
"That's c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-correct," he stammered.
"Tell me the sort of things Mommy used to do to you."
"She used to make me get completely naked."
"Yes, of course, and then what did she do?"
"She used to called me t-t-t-terrible names."
"Uh huh, go on, this is getting most interesting, slave."
"And she used to tie me up very tightly, usually to the bed."
"Well, we have a wooden torture table here."
"I th-th-th-think that will d-d-d-do nicely."
"Then what did she do to you, slave?" the woman asked.
"Then she used t-t-t-t-t-t-to beat me, with a stick."
"I will be using a riding crop, slave," the woman informed the subservient hunk matter-of-factly.
"That's okay, I g-g-g-g-g-g-guess," Thomas said.
"And then what did she do to you, slave? What did she do to you after mommy beat the shit out of you with a stick?" the woman asked.
"Then she used to do something h-h-h-horrible to me. It's hard to s-s-s-s-say what it w-w-w-w-w-was," the man said.
"Come on, spit it out. Spit it out before I slap the shit out of you." The leather-clad dominatrix bitch made it clear through the tone of her rather deep voice that she was not now, nor would she ever be, in the mood to take no for an answer from the intrinsically submissive male.
"She used to push a br-br-br-broomstick up my ass," the man said. There were tears in his eyes.
"And that is what you want me to do to you?"
"That's r-r-r-r-r-right," Thomas Froelich said.
"Then let's get started, slave. I say get naked."
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie," the handsome man replied, staring down at the toes of his black, and obviously recently shined shoes.
"And I mean PRONTO," the beautiful woman said. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch raised the riding crop high up over her head, as if to threaten the man. She could see that he really was quite a hunk. She could feel herself getting horny as she watched him remove his tailored clothing. She ran the tip of her pink tongue back and forth across her lips to moisten them as she watched him get naked. The woman could feel an ache in her cunt. She could feel the hot blood of her arousal pumping downward in her delicious body.
She could feel all of that blood heading for the pink delta between her finely tapered thighs.
The beautiful woman could feel her pussy tissues swelling rapidly, heading toward the point of thorough engorgement quite quickly.
The dominatrix could tell that it wouldn't be very long at all; before all of her pussy's tissues, both her inner and outer cunt lips, would be as swollen as they could possibly get.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her pussy getting a little bit wetter with each passing second.
Mistress Marjorie could feel the little glands inside her pussy starting to secrete a plentiful and healthy amount of her natural lubrication.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her cunt getting moist, but she was smart enough and experienced enough to know that it wouldn't stay moist for long. Soon it was going to be more than just moist.
Soon her poontang was going to be more than just damp.
Soon, the beautiful woman knew, her pussy was going to be SOAKING WET because of the steady flow of slippery aromatic nectar inside her aching twat. She could feel the ache in her loins, inside her soft womanly underbelly, getting steadily worse.
The insides of the woman's thighs felt hot, and she could tell that the skin there was flushed to a crimson hue with her intensifying horniness.
She whimpered a little, but tried to keep her exclamation of pleasure to herself, so that her sex slave would not notice it. She could see that Thomas Froelich stood well over six feet tall.
The sex slave stood six four, to be precise.
She could tell that the muscular young hunk tipped the scales at well over two-hundred pounds.
This is not to intimate in any way that the man was obese, however, nor that he was even the slightest bit overweight for that matter.
The truth was that Thomas Froelich did not have an ounce of fat on his body. He was all muscle.
Iron-thawed muscle. He had muscles that looked and felt as if they were made of iron.
The woman could see that the man had extraordinarily broad shoulders. His entire upper torso was massive, in fact.
The man had thick slabs of muscle covering his shoulders, his chest, and his back.
The handsome man had a thick rug of fur covering the front of his body. He looked just as much like an ape as he did like a human being, as far as the professional dominatrix bitch was concerned. She liked hairy men. She liked men who at least looked like they were uncivilized in nature.
It was easier, she had found, to treat a man as if he were an animal, if he looked to her like an animal.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her clitoris growing, along with the rest of her poontang's tissues. She could feel that fiery bulb pushing out from under the fleshy sheath that usually all but covered it. Mistress Marjorie could feel the little man in the boat pushing out from under the fleshy sheath that usually all but covered her clitoris.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her clitoral foreskin being pushed upward and out of the way by the bulging focal point of her womanly desires. The woman could see that, in spite of the fact that the man's upper torso was massive, her sex slave had a waist and hips that were remarkably slender.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could see that the man was shaped like a triangle with it's point down. She could see that there was a large ratio between his chest and his waist measurements.
On the other hand, the woman could see that there was hardly any ratio at all between his waist and his hip measurements.
The woman could see that his thighs were thick and heavily muscled.
She knew that she would never get around to measuring, but she suspected from the instant she saw him naked that one of Thomas Froelich's thighs had greater girth than her entire waist. Of course the woman did not have a very large, waist, you understand.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had a waist that measured a mere twenty-two inches.
The man had long legs, and he had extraordinarily large hands and feet, as, the woman could see right away, was the case with another all-important part of the man's masculine anatomy.
He had a humongous cock.
His balls were pretty huge too. The woman liked that. She liked a man who had been furnished by God with the proper equipment.
She gave her riding crop another tight squeeze. When the man pulled down his pants his cock came popping out of the crotch of his trousers like some sort of horny jack-in-the-box or something. Her eyes went wide with ire and lust and desire as she gazed upon his sexually aroused genitalia for the first time. She could feel her mouth watering. She could feel her salivary gland working overtime.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could tell that it wasn't going to be long before she had to swallow more frequently than usual to keep herself from drooling clear and steamy hot saliva onto her chin.
The handsome yet subservient stud had a full-fledged erection by the time he got his pants down.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her natural lubrication gathering at the mouth of her fuck hole.
Mistress Marjorie could feel her pussy's nectar accumulating at the base of her pussy slash.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel the juices gathering directly in between her protruding and slightly curled back inner cunt lips, and she was smart enough and experienced enough to know that it wouldn't be long before that juice began to spill right out of her cunt. She could tell that it wouldn't be long before her natural lubrication began to flow right down the insides of her finely-tapered thighs, just like sweet nectar oozing from a split in the fuzzy skin of an over-ripe peach.
"I am naked, Mistress Marjorie," the man exclaimed.
"I can see that. Do you know what to do next?"
"Do you want me to get up onto the torture table?"
"That's right, slave. You guessed it. I guess you must not be as dumb as you look," Mistress Marjorie exclaimed with a laugh.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch tossed back her head and looked upward at the human skulls that were dangling from the ceiling of her torture chamber as she laughed loudly.
"Would you like me to get up on the t-t-t-t-torture table on my back or on my b-b-b-b-b-belly?" the hunky businessman inquired.
"I want you to get on your belly so you can receive the whip," Mistress Marjorie said.
The handsome yet subservient stud shivered when he heard those words, yet the head of his cock throbbed even harder than before.
For many years the man had been confusing fear with horniness, and the problem for him was getting worse rather than better. At that moment, as the man stood in the professional dominatrix bitch's torture chamber, he found that his fear and his lust were almost indistinguishable inside the reeling gray matter of his brain. He could feel his entire body becoming soaked with perspiration.
He got onto the torture table-on his belly.
"Good slave."
"Thank you."
"Know what comes next?"
"The whip?"
"Nope."
"What?"
"Bondage."
"That's right."
"You forgot."
"I did."
"You must be bound."
"Yes. I must."
The woman approached the table and went right to work. She set her bamboo and leather horse whip on the edge of the torture table so she would be able to use both hands to bind her brand new slave, her brand new sex mate, her brand new VICTIM.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch grabbed the man by his left wrist tightly.
The woman tugged his arm violently up over his head toward the head of the torture table. She tugged hard. She tugged as hard as she possibly could, as a matter of fact.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her natural slippery lubrication starting to spill down the insides of her thighs toward the tops of her sexy stockings as she began to bondage process.
The sex slave was about to be bound stringently.
The man could see that there were four steel cuffs attached to the four corners of the torture table via thickly-linked chains.
The man knew that he was about to be bound tightly in the spread-eagled position.
The handsome yet subservient stud felt his left arm being tugged up over his head so hard that he half-expected to hear his bones snapping at either his wrist or his elbow at any second. He could feel his elbow being locked in the straight position.
She yanked at his arm so tightly that he feared for a moment that his shoulder was about to be tugged right out of its socket. He let out a scream of discomfort.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch looped the opened steel cuff around the man's left wrist. She closed it as tightly as she could get it-and then she locked it securely.
The handsome yet subservient stud realized at that moment that the inside of that icy steel cuff was sharply toothed.
He could feel those sharp steel teeth biting painfully into his wrist flesh. He could feel tears welling in his eyes-just as they always did when he was a little boy and he was being abused by his Mommy, his depraved Mommy. He could feel his eyes swelling.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his eyes turning red. The first tears fell from his tear ducts onto his cheekbones.
His eyes became so swollen that he discovered, to his dismay, that he could only blink with an ever-increasing amount of difficulty.
The handsome yet subservient stud discovered that the insides of his eyelids felt as if they had been magically and suddenly been transformed into a particularly rough variety of sandpaper. His eyes were killing him, there could be no doubt about that.
He looked as if he had recently been exposed to tear-gas, or mace.
The steel cuff fit around the sex slave's wrist so tightly that it completely cut off the flow of blood to the man's hand.
The handsome yet subservient stud could tell without looking that the tips of his left fingers were turning a deep purple color-the same color as the head of his cock at that moment.
The sex slave could feel the entire length of his cock being pinned painfully between the hard wood platform and his equally flat and hard tummy.
His balls were swollen. The handsome man felt as if his balls were swollen to three times their normal size. He could feel the temperature of his semen increasing. His silver seed felt as if it were anxiously approaching the boiling point.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his come swimming around his swollen balls impatiently. His manly spunk was beginning to feel more and more as if it were anxious as hell to get out of there. He wept.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch did not work quickly. She wanted his discomfort to last.
There were many professional woman in New York City who always seemed to be in a hurry. They were anxious to abuse and appease their sex partners so they could make more money, plowing through more slaves in the same amount of time.
But this was not how Mistress Marjorie thought. She liked to linger over one slave, and give him the thorough treatment. She didn't want any of her subservient customers to feel gypped or cheated or ripped-off.
She was a businesswoman, and she knew that she administered the best sadomasochistic sex sessions in all of New York City, which was why she felt no guilt about charging the highest hourly charges of any dominatrix in Sin City. New York City: City of Leather.
"Hurt?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"Hurts so bad."
"Suffer."
"Please..."
"Please, what?"
"Please, have a little mercy."
"Mercy?"
"Y-y-y-y-y-y-yes," the man replied.
"Ha," the woman said throwing back her head.
"No?"
"I don't even know the meaning of the word mercy," the woman said. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch laughed until there were tears in her eyes, just as there were tears in the eyes of her sex slave.
The gorgeous black-haired female could feel her nipples getting hard. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel the feminine erections at the tips of her large breasts getting steadily larger, harder and more sensitive. She stroked her own nipples as she watched her slave suffer. She knew that his cock had to be killing him because of the way it was pinned between the torture table and his tummy.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel pins and needles in the tips of the fingers on his left hand, and he could tell that he was not going to be able to feel those pins and needles for very long.
The handsome yet subservient stud could tell that soon he wouldn't be able to feel anything at all in the tips of his fingers-or in his entire hand, for that matter.
He knew that soon his entire left hand would be numb because of the stringent and cruel steel bondage the bitch was administering upon him with gusto.
The man found that he could only wiggle his fingers at the knuckles with an ever-increasing amount of difficulty.
His knuckles were getting stiffer and stiffer and he could tell that it wouldn't be long before he wouldn't be able to wiggle his fingers at all.
His hand was soon going to be rendered both feelingless and motionless by her bondage.
In spite of the fact that the torture table was right out in the middle of the woman's torture chamber, she walked all the way around the foot of the wooden platform to get to the other side so she could repeat the process with her new sex slave's right arm.
The man could feel the left cuff biting harder and harder into his wrist. He could tell that that cuff was leaving an ugly red ring around his wrist, a ring that would take several days to fade away, even after his bondage had been removed. She repeated the process with the other arm.
The man lost sensation in his right hand. He could feel steel teeth biting his right wrist. He found that he was losing the ability to move his right fingers.
The handsome yet subservient stud soon couldn't feel anything more in his right hand than he could in his left.
The dominatrix bitch moved down toward the foot of the torture table. She took long strides as she made circles around the torture table.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch moved with grace. The gorgeous black-haired female moved like a cat in heat.
Mistress Marjorie looked and felt as if she were encircling her helpless prey. That was very much how the man felt at that moment. The handsome yet subservient stud felt just like the woman's helpless prey-and that was just how the man wanted to feel.
"Tell me how you feel, slave," the woman said.
"I feel fr-fr-fr-fr-frightened, Mistress," he said.
"Can you feel your heart pounding?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Does your heart feel as if it is racing?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Does it feel ready to pound out of your chest?" she asked.
"Yes."
"You are all wet. Why are you sweating so?"
"I am n-n-n-n-n-'n-n-n-nervous, I guess," he said.
"How does your tummy feel?" the dominatrix. inquired. "It hurts."
"Tell me about it, slave," the leather-clad woman queried.
"My stomach has butterflies in, Mistress."
"Butterflies? Hmmmmmm, are they fluttering around?"
"Yes, just like they want to get the hell out of there."
"You don't feel like you are going to throw up?"
"No."
"Good. You would be punished if you puked."
"Punished?"
"Yes, slave. I would rip out your tongue."
"Oh my."
"That's right. You had better not barf."
"I'll t-t-t-t-t-t-t-try," the man stammered.
The man had his long thick legs stretched out behind him toward the foot of the torture table. He had his knees locked in the straight position.
He had his ankles and his knees very close to one another-but the man could tell that the dominatrix bitch was going to see to it that his ankles and his knees did not stay close together for very much longer. He shivered.
He could feel the entire surface area of his body becoming covered with a thick layer of bumpy gooseflesh. He could feel the little hairs at the nape of his thick neck, just below the base of his skull, standing on end.
The woman stood facing his rump at the rear of the torture table. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch then jack-knifed at the waist.
The gorgeous black-haired female reached down with straightened arms and gripped tightly at both of the man's ankles at the same time. She had her elbows locked in the straight position.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch, with a single outward sweep of her arms, yanked the man's legs apart.
The gorgeous black-haired female looked as if she were making a wish over a human wishbone as she yanked apart the stud's muscular legs in that fashion.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his ankles being cuffed into place. He could tell that his super-thick thighs had been opened to a perfect ninety-degree angle.
He was bound in place.
He could not move.
Nary a muscle.
The handsome yet subservient stud found that he could tense and relax his muscles, but he couldn't move any of them.
The steel was holding him fast to the torture table. His cock was crushed against the wood even harder than before and the discomfort he was experiencing there increased accordingly for him.
He loved this pain.
The handsome yet subservient stud found that the only part of his body that was still mobile was his head. He could lift his face away from the wood and move his handsome kisser from side to side of he wanted to.
But this took a lot of energy, and he decided that it wasn't worth it. He kept his head still-correctly assuming that he was going to need all of the pooled energy he could muster before the S and M sex session was completed.
He could tell that it wouldn't be long before he wouldn't be able to feel any more in his feet than he could in his hands.
The handsome yet subservient stud struggled against his bondage in a futile attempt to free himself, and only stopped when he realized that this struggling was making those sharp and savage steel teeth bite even more deeply than before into the flesh at his wrists and his ankles.
"You know what happens now, slave?" the woman asked.
"Yes."
"What?"
"The whip?"
"That's right."
"Good."
"You want the whip?"
"Very much."
"You NEED the whip?"
"Uh huh."
"Good attitude, slave. That attitude will save me time."
"How's that?"
"I won't have to train you to need my whip."
"Hardly."
"You already love being whipped," the woman said.
"Just about more than anything," the handsome man replied.
"Tell me why you love the pain," the bitch asked.
"Because it is the closest thing I have even known to-"
"To what?"
"To love."
"You're pathetic."
"Yes, Mistress."
"You are scum."
"Yes, Mistress."
"You are aromatic vomit."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Motherfucker."
"Please don't call me that."
"Motherfucker."
"Please-"
"You are a mother-fucker, aren't you, slave?"
"Yes."
"You are also a piece of home-made shit."
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie, that I am," the man said.
"Now you are going to get the whip," she said.
"Yes, please."
"You deserve it."
"I certainly do."
"Tell me why you deserve it, slave," she said.
"I've been bad."
"In what way."
"I have been incestuous."
"How, slave?"
"I am a mother-fucker."
"Confession is good for the soul, you scumbag."
With that the beautiful woman picked up her riding crop. She held it tightly in her right hand.
She then raised her right arm high over her head. She looked as if she were cocking the hammer of a pistol before firing. Then the woman brought the whip down as hard as she could.
The whip made a vicious whistling sound as it moved through the air.
Then the whip struck the cheeks of the man's ass.
CRACK.
The sound of the horse whip striking the man's ass made a sound that reminded Thomas Froelich of a gunshot, or a shotgun blast.
The sound reminded the bound subservient male of a car backfiring out on the street-or maybe of a cherry-bomb going off on the Fourth of July. The sound of the whip striking his flesh alone was enough to make his facial features contort with a wince.
He heard the sound a fraction of a second before he felt the pain.
His nervous-system took that long to get the awful message to his brain.
CHAPTER TWO
The handsome yet subservient stud felt the pain of the leather and bamboo horse whip striking his ass after a fraction of a second of hesitation.
The pain was so terrible, so severe, that he thought he might pass out from the intensity of the horrible sensations he was being subjected to by the evil woman.
Mistress Marjorie was convinced that she was the Mistress of the devil himself-and there were many of her sex slaves who believed that this had to be true.
She could see that a huge red welt had formed across both of the man's ass cheeks at the same time from the initial blow of the slave's whipping.
"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH," the man hollered loudly.
His voice echoed off the stone walls of the chamber.
"Hurts, huh?" the woman said with a broad grin.
"It hurts so fucking much," the subservient replied.
The woman wasted no time raised the crop up over her head once again. Again the man heard the whistling sound as the whip moved through the damp air of the makeshift dungeon.
Again the man could hear the gunshot-like sound of the horse whip making direct contact with the naked and vulnerable flesh of his ass cheeks.
Fresh tears rolled down his face. His cheeks were becoming stained by the tracks of those rivulets of saltwater.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch was laughing.
The gorgeous black-haired female was having the time of her life. She rarely had more fun than she did when she had a whip in her hand.
ABOUT the only thing she liked better was raw sexual pleasure, and she knew that it wouldn't be very long at all before she was pondering the handsome man to give her some of that too.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
The woman was careful not to strike the man twice in the same place. That would have been a bloody waste of time as far as the woman was concerned.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch knew from experience that the man's nerve-endings were numbed and deadened by each blow. She knew that if she struck him twice in the same place she would be hitting him in a spot where he could no longer feel the pain-and she didn't see any point in that whatsoever. She made stripes across his fanny, all up and down the cheeks of his ass.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
The man could feel the sharpness of the pain begin the fade. He could feel the sharpest of the pain dulling into an ache.
Somehow that ache was blending perfectly with the ache of desire the submissive man had been experienced all along. Just as his fear and arousal had merged inside his mind earlier, now his pain and his pleasure were becoming all but indistinguishable inside his reeling mind.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
SMACK.
The woman did not limit her savage blows to the cheeks of the man's thoroughly ravaged ass.
The black haired bitch also brought the horse whip down onto the small of the man's back.
She whipped him very close to the y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of his ass.
She whipped at the backs of his thighs, once frighteningly close to the base of his balls.
She even whipped at the backs of Thomas Froelich's knees, where she knew his nerve-ending were clustered particularly densely. She knew that the pain when he was whipped at the backs of his knees would be extraordinarily sharp for him, and it was.
The woman whipped the center of his back-all the way up and down the entire length of his backbone, concentrating her attention on the hypersensitive area directly between his rather broad shoulder blades.
The woman striped the entire backside of the man's body with angry red welts before she decided the savage whipping was complete.
"How's that?" the woman asked her bound subservient.
"I want more," the man said, pleading with his intonations.
You can't have more, slave-I'm sorry," she said.
"But I need more whipping. I need more pain."
"That's precisely why I won't give it to you."
"You're cruel," the man whimpered.
"You'd better believe it, Jack," the woman said.
"You must be the meanest woman in the whole wide world," the subservient exclaimed.
"I'd like to think that is true, slave. Yes, I'd like to think that is true." The leather-clad dominatrix bitch pondered this silently for a moment with her hand on her chin.
The man had long stopped trying to struggle against his bondage. He had conceded in his brain that he was not going to be able to move a muscle again until the dominatrix bitch determined that this was to be so. He was without power. He was helpless.
Hopeless.
Defenseless.
Filled with despair.
He whined with discomfort, and again she laughed.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel a tingling of desire in his tight little asshole-because he knew that that was the part of him that was going to be abused next.
He could feel the tingling of desire starting at the outermost portion of his asshole-at the mouth of his pink and puckered rectum.
The handsome yet subservient stud soon discovered that the tingling of desire was spreading inward. It spread inward to his tight tubular sphincter muscle-and then into his colon. He could feel it spreading inward deeper still-right into the pit of his bowels, right into the smelliest core of his manhood. He could feel an itch forming deep up inside him.
He could feel the itch growing in intensity with each passing second-and he could tell that it would not be very long before that itch was practically demanding to be scratched.
He hoped that whatever the woman chose to fuck him up the asshole with was long enough to reach the itch up inside him. He wasn't worried.
She said that she was the best in the business at abusing and appeasing submissives, and so far Mistress Marjorie had given the man no reason to suspect her words laden with hyperbole. She was the best in the business, all right.
The submissive hunk of a businessman could just tell.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch whipped her slave until she bored with this form of abuse.
The gorgeous black-haired female whipped the backside of the subservient male until her right arm began to feet fatigued with the exertion of her abusive effort. She tossed the riding crop away carelessly-without even bothering to turn her head to see where the horse whip went.
The man could hear the leather and bamboo riding crop scuttling its away across the uncarpeted floor into the far corner of the torture chamber-the corner that was furthest from the doorway that led to the rest of the leather-clad dominatrix bitch's apartment.
"You know what happens now, slave?" the woman asked.
"I g-g-g-g-g-g-get f-f-f-f-f-fucked?" he asked.
"You got it, mother-fucker. I am going to fuck you right up the asshole, just like MOMMY used to do," the bitch said. The gorgeous black-haired female could feel her clitoris readying to explode at any second from the intense swelling she felt down there. Her clit felt like it would burst from the internal pressure. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch felt as if her little man in the boat were about to come popping right out of the top of her poontang slash at any second.
"You like being called names, don't you?"
"Yes."
"You like it when I call you scumbag, huh?"
"Yes."
"You like it when I tell you your face looks like a pizza with extra cheese, huh?"
"Yes"
"You like it when I tell you that you are a sick and diseased soul, and that there is no hope for you, huh?" the woman said.
"Yes."
"You like it when I tell you that you have breath like a fart, huh?" the dominatrix taunted, shivering with anticipation.
"Yes."
"Yes, you do."
"I need it," the man said in a whispery voice.
"What? Tell me what you need, slave," she said.
"I need to be f-f-f-f-f-fucked," the man replied.
"I ain't gonna use a broomstick on you, slave."
"What are y-y-y-y-y-you gonna use?" he asked.
"I'm gonna use a dildo," the evil woman replied .
"A dildo that vibrates?" the subservient inquired.
"No, a dildo that straps around my hips," she said.
"You mean you are going to wear it like a real cock?"
"That's right."
"And you are going to fuck me with it as if you were-as if you were-as if you were-"
"A man."
"A man."
"Yes, that's precisely how I will fuck you."
"Wow, no one ever did THAT to me before," he said.
"That's because you are an inexperienced wimp and a fool," the black-haired woman retorted.
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie. It is true," he said.
"I LOVE fucking wimps," the dominatrix laughed.
"I came to the right place. I love getting fucked by obviously infinitely superior women," the man said.
"I am going to make you feel as if you have never been fucked before, slave," the woman said.
"How so?"
"You haven't seen the dildo I am going to use yet."
"Is it big?"
"I think big is an understatement, mother-fucker."
"Oh my, I hope you don't hurt me too badly."
"Liar. You want me to hurt you VERY badly."
"It's true," Thomas said with a audible sob.
"You want me to wreck your rectum, don't you, slave?"
"Yes."
"You want me to plow deep into your bowels, right?"
"Yes."
"You want the dildo to come out bloody, right?"
"Yes, bloody and shitty, Mistress Marjorie," he said.
"Well, you came to the right place, cocksucker."
The woman went to the far side of the torture chamber. The handsome man turned his head so he would be able to see what the cruel woman was doing at all times. Thomas Froelich was determined not to miss a trick-so to speak.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch swung her hips passionately from side to side when she walked. This pendulum-like movement was intrinsic to her natural gait-and was not the product of affectation.
Her ass moved like gelatin on springs when she walked.
It would have been an understatement to call the dominatrix bitch shapely. She was broad where a broad was supposed to be broad-there could be no doubt about that. He could see that the woman had a perfect hourglass figure.
The handsome yet subservient stud could see that the woman had hair as black as pitch. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had ebony tresses that were long-and spilled thickly over her shoulders and down her back.
Her hair spilled most thickly of all down the center of her back in between her rather sharp shoulder blades.
Her hair was very shiny, and reflected even the dim and indirect illumination of the torture chamber.
The dungeon-like portion of Marjorie's apartment was lit with blue bulbs. Everything was affected by the creepy hue of death those bulbs cast.
Her face was extraordinarily gorgeous, he could see. The handsome yet subservient stud could see that she had the face of an angel-to go with the brain of the devil. Looking at her and judging her just from her facial features, one might have thought that Marjorie had never had a naughty thought in her entire life. Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth.
The woman was having evil thoughts all the time. The woman couldn't go more than a minute or so without having an evil thought. She was mean and savage through and thorough.
Perhaps it is important to note here that the woman was not born evil. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had been made evil. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had been trained to be evil, by an incestuous parent of her own.
Ah, but more about that subject a little later on.
The woman had smooth skin that was dark in complexion. She had an olive complexion-the sort of skin that tanned into a golden brown after a summertime of exposure to the bright beach sun. The woman was heavily into sunbathing. She liked to lay out in the sun until people began to ask her if she were from Malaysia or something.
Her skin was very smooth-and it was obvious to all who looked at her that she had been one of those lucky teenagers who had never once suffered from a facial blemish.
She looked as if she might have some Latin blood in her.
The shapely woman remembered her teenaged years very well.
After all, Mistress Marjorie was only twenty-two years old. She was already a millionairess, however, because of her extraordinary dominatrix capabilities. She was a "phenom" in the bitch biz.
Her eyebrows and her eyelashes were every bit as black as the hair that grew from her head.
Her eyebrows had been neatly plucked.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had eyebrows that were slender and femininely angular.
The gorgeous black-haired female had eyelashes that were long and curled upward at their tips.
Her eyelashes were so long that they licked lightly at her high cheekbones each and every time she blinked-or winked for that matter.
The handsome yet subservient stud could tell that he would not have to wait very long now before his asshole was being brutally reamed- reamed inside out perhaps-and he could feel the tingling of desire at the mouth of his rectum her worse as he had this thought.
The woman had large brown eyes. Her eyes were very dark brown-so dark that they appeared as ebony as the hair in the torture chamber's limited light.
Her eyes were almond-shaped. They were very expressive. And they changed color depending on her mood. They darkened when she was angry.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch was angry most of the time-as her sex slaves knew so well.
The woman had a small straight nose. Her nostrils were a little on the pinched side-but they had a tendency to flare wide open whenever she was feeling excited about something.
The woman was very excited at the prospect of fucking the sex slave up the asshole with her favorite ersatz boner.
The woman could feel her clit swelling up to a size a good five times as large as it was normally. Her love button became so large that it looked a hell of a lot more like the head of a baby boy's cock than like the center of a woman's passion.
The woman could feel the insides of her finely tapered thighs getting sticky as the juices continued to dribble from her aromatic twat. The woman could smell the scent of her own cunt juices wafting up from between her legs toward her anxiously flaring nostrils.
The woman sucked the smell of her cunt deep into her sinuses and then exhaled with a sigh.
She loved it.
The smell.
The smell of cunt.
She felt dizzy.
She felt as if she were becoming intoxicated.
She was drunk with the smell of her own juicy swampland poontang at that delicious moment.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her horniness enhanced by that fishy aroma.
The beautiful woman could feel her face getting hot-and she could tell she was red as a beet.
The gorgeous black-haired female could tell she was severely flushed with her passion.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his cock being numbed as it was crushed against the hard wooden torture table.
The handsome man could not tell what kind of wood it was. The table was oaken perhaps.
The gorgeous ebony-tressed bombshell did have a large mouth. But her lips were full and sensuous.
Her lips were plump. They looked juicy. They were very red-asked as cherries, in spite of the fact that the woman did not use lipsticks. She had a tendency to nibble on her nipples however-and perhaps that was what made them so red.
She had a pouting mouth, and it had been said that Mistress Marjorie was walking through life looking like she needed to be kissed very badly.
There was a lot of truth in this, to be sure.
But the black haired woman did not get kissed as often as one might think. Kissing is a little affectionate for most sadomasochistic sex sessions. Marjorie liked to kiss mostly during her spare time, when she was getting it on with one of her lesbian friends.
Oh yes, the woman was bisexual. Completely. She was equally turned on by cocks and cunts-and that had been the case for as long as the bitch could remember.
She tended to save her affectionate love-making for her lesbian affairs, but she had sexually abused both genders in her day. She would whip anyone- whether they wanted to be whipped or not. This was just one of the many ways the evil woman got her kicks.
She grabbed the dildo.
She put it on.
It was black.
Rubber. Hard rubber.
Ten inches long.
Very thick.
Thomas shivered.
He felt fear.
He felt lust.
"Fuck me," he said.
CHAPTER THREE
"M-m-m-m-m-Mistress Marjorie?" the man said with a horrendous stammer, as he saw the black haired woman approaching him with that dildo protruding from her femininely sloped loins. He noticed that her walk was different now that she was wearing the spurious erection.
Instead of swinging her hips from side to side, the woman was swinging her shoulders from side to side-as a man would.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch increased the masculinity of her gait a great deal when she strapped on the long black dildo.
The gorgeous black-haired female reached down and gave the rubber pole a squeeze. She sighed.
The beautiful woman sighed just as if she could really feel inside that dildo-as if it were a real part of her body, an actual member.
"Yes, slave?" the woman asked, looking at her subservient hunk with a twinkle in her dark brown eyes.
"I d-d-d-d-d-don't think that dildo is going to f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-fit inside my ass."
"I think it will fit-if you want it to badly enough, slave," the woman said with a toothy smile.
Her teeth were pearly white-and they were all perfectly straight. She had never had to wear braces, much to her mother's delight.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had humongous breasts. Her tits were so large that they would have been considered huge even if they had grown on a much larger woman.
Her tits were not only massive, but they were firm.
They rested high on her chest. They were pert.
Perky.
They seemed to defy gravity because they were so firm. At that moment the woman was wearing a black leather corset around her middle.
The corset enhanced the hourglass nature of her figure. There were a pair of half-cups at the top of the tightly laced black leather corset, and those half-cups fit snugly beneath the woman's tits.
Those half-cups lifted her boobs up even higher up on her chest than they would have rested normally.
Her tits were not only large and firm-but they were perfectly shaped as well.
They were rounded at their bottoms and sloped at their delicious tops. Men drooled.
Her knockers were shaped so that her nipples pointed slightly upward when she stood straight.
Mistress Marjorie always stood straight. Posture had never been a problem for the bitch.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch walked as if she were balancing a book on top of her head.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his heart pounding even harder than before-and he would not have thought that that was possible unless he had felt it for himself. Thomas Froelich felt more than ever like that hyperactive ticker was going to pound its way right out of his massive chest.
"I d-d-d-d-d-don't think it is gonna fit," he said.
"Then we will have to make it fit won't we?"
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," the man said.
The handsome yet subservient stud sounded as if he were about to panic, and the woman knew that wasn't going to help him get the dildo up into his bowels one iota.
"Calm down. Your asshole is a hell of a lot more elastic than you give it credit for," she said.
"I sure h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-hope so," he replied.
"Nature has a way of working these things out."
"You make me feel better when you talk that way."
"Then again, maybe I will rip your asshole out."
"Oh nooooooooooooooo, please don't even say it."
"Yes, maybe I'll make you die from internal bleeding or something, mother-fucker," she said.
"Are you g-g-g-g-g-g-going to use anything for l-l-l-l-l-l-l-lubrication, Mistress Marjorie," the bound man asked. He couldn't help but wonder for a frightening moment or two if he were ever going to be able to feel anything again in his hands or his feet. He had felt the pain from the whip affecting each and every one of his nerve-endings with the exception of those in his hands and feet where he could not feel anything at all, of course.
"Yes, I am going to use KY jelly, slave," she said.
"That's good," the teary-eyed man replied.
"It's the best, and don't you forget it," she said.
"I w-w-w-w-w-won't forget it," Thomas responded.
"And I don't want you to think I am being kind."
"No?"
"Hell no, I ain't lubing up the dildo to ease your pain, mother-fucker," the dominatrix said.
"No?"
"Hell no, cocksucker. I'm just lazy. I would have to work too hard to get this humongous pole up your fanny unless I used something to make the bogus boner slippery."
"I understand," the subservient replied sheepishly.
"And I'm going to lube up your bung too."
"Yes, please-that sounds yummy," he responded.
The handsome yet subservient stud could hear his own voice becoming much higher, as could the dominatrix bitch.
The man sounded younger. He sounded like a boy.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch realized that the man was pretending that he was with his mommy-that he was being savagely buggered by his Mommy. This realization really blew Mistress Marjorie's mind. The gorgeous black-haired female could feel her cunt flesh starting to crawl around between her legs.
Her pussy flesh was crawling around just as if it had magically and suddenly developed a mind of its own.
Her clit felt more than ever like it was going to pop.
Her hips were well-rounded-both at the sides and at the rear.
Her ass cheeks were every bit as smooth as they had been when she was just a diminutive baby. The black haired bitch had buttocks that were magically soft and firm, terse yet supple, at the same time.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had extraordinarily sparse body hair. They say mat a lack of body hair is a sign of a pure bloodline. If that Is true then the woman certainly had a pedigree. The woman didn't even have very much hair between her legs.
Mistress Marjorie knew that most woman had an inverted triangle of pussy hair growing above their poontang slashes, totally covering their femininely rounded mounds.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch knew that most woman had hair growing along the sides of their vulvas, along their outer cooze lips, sometimes even spreading out onto the insides of their thighs so they had to wax the area before they could wear chic swim-wear.
The gorgeous black-haired female knew that most woman even had hair growing in the cleavage between their buttocks, especially around their tight pink little assholes.
But the woman had none of this.
She merely had two twin curls of black short and curly pubic hair growing at the base of her mound-directly above and to the sides of her clitoral foreskin. The hair that grew down there covered less than a third of her mound.
The woman had absolutely no hair growing along the sides of her pussy.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch was equally bald in between her ass cheeks. The gorgeous black-haired female didn't even have any hair around her asshole.
She was the sort of woman who had never, in her entire life, had to worry about dingleberries.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel the numbness along the backside of his body wearing off and he, for the first time, began to realize how badly he had been ravaged by Mistress Marjorie's riding crop, and the plethora of blows she had administered with it.
His skin stung.
He whimpered.
He whined.
The woman unscrewed the cap on the tube of KY jelly. She squirted a snake of jelly onto the fleshy part of her right fingertips.
The woman could feel the ache of desire in her pussy spreading deep up inside her belly-getting closer and closer to her bellybutton.
The woman had long legs, and they were very shapely.
Very comely.
The woman had perfectly tapered thighs, mat gracefully angled their way downward from her round hips toward her smooth and unseamed knees. The woman thought it was pretty amazing that her knees were as unscarred as they were, taking into consideration the amount of rollerskating on cracked sidewalks the female had done as a small child.
Her shins were flat.
Her calves were rounded-without being overly muscled.
Her ankles were trim.
Her feet were dainty.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch had the perfect feet and ankles for high, high-heels-which happened to be precisely what she was wearing at that moment. Above the dildo the woman was wearing a black garterbelt.
Attached to the garterbelt were sexy black fishnet stockings-the kind with the seams up the back of the leg. On her feet she wore spiked pumps.
All of the woman's toes were extraordinarily long. Her toes were phenomenal, indeed.
When she was a little girl she had been able to pick up a number two lead pencil off a linoleum floor with her toes-much to the amazement of those who were honored to watch.
It had been years since the woman had even tried the pencil trick with her long toes. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch simply presumed that she could still do it.
The woman had amazing fingernails. Very attractive.
Very savage.
They were like claws.
Animal claws.
Ever since the beautiful woman had been thirteen she had been super-conscious of her manicure.
Marjorie had never been able to feel right about herself unless her nails were perfect at all times.
It was a bit of an obsession for the bitch.
Her nails were carefully filed so that they were all precisely the same length. They were filed so that they had a common pointiness to their tips, giving them their animalistic appearance. She always kept her fingernails painted a deep crimson hue, because she correctly assumed that this was the scariest color. Besides, the black-haired bombshell thought the deep scarlet hue went best with her black hair and her olive, and usually tanned, complexion.
The woman used her left hand to pull apart the man's ass cheeks. She dug her left fingertips right into the crack of his ass.
She pulled his ass cheeks open slowly and she did not stop until his buttocks, his ravaged buttocks, had been separated as far as they could possibly go.
The man could feel the skin in the crack of his ass being stretched taut by the gross separation the dominatrix bitch administered.
She could see that even some of the puckers in the stud's asshole were being smoothed as she opened him up as far as he could go.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch slapped the jelly, the cool jelly, right onto the man's asshole.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel the jelly being massaged all around his pink and hypersensitive rectal area with a smooth slow sensuous motion.
The gorgeous black-haired female decided that it would be a good idea to push some of the jelly right up inside the man's tight bung hole as well.
Mistress Marjorie decided that she should use her middle finger to do this. After all, that was her longest digit, and she wanted to push the jelly up inside the slave's ass as deeply as she possibly could.
She placed the tip of her finger right on the center of the pink asterisk of his asshole. His bung hole-unlike hers-was very hairy.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
"Here we go."
"Push inside."
"Shut up."
"Sorry, Mistress."
The woman snapped her strong wrist and drove her middle finger very deep inside the young man's asshole. She pushed her finger inside as deeply as it could possibly go, and she did so very quickly. The man let out a long moan. He thought this felt very good.
The spawned sensation was very intense for the man, but he still was conscious of the fact that the sensations he was experiencing at that moment were next to nothing compared to those he would experience when Mistress Marjorie did the same thing with the spurious rubber erection between her legs.
The woman pushed her finger up inside the man's asshole until she could feel the tight and throbbing mouth of his rectum gripping and sucking her digit at its third knuckle.
The tip of her finger had pushed well up past his sphincter and into his colon.
"Deeper."
"Shut up."
"Deeper."
"Shut up."
"Ohhhhhhh."
"Be quiet."
"So good."
"Hush, you.
The woman wiggled her fingertip around inside the man's asshole playfully for a long time.
The woman pressed against various internal spots with varying pressures just then.
She curled her finger and straightened her finger, leaving it inside him the whole time.
She could feel his tight tubular sphincter muscle tugging at her bold and curious finger.
She could feel his ass muscles trying to suck her finger even deeper into his colon flesh.
It didn't take the man very long at all to figure out that the woman's finger was neither long enough nor thick enough to appease his deep-anal desires.
The man knew that that was a task that exclusively her ersatz erection could accomplish adequately.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," the man moaned loudly.
His exclamation of anal pleasure and anal desire was loud enough to echo off the walls, the phony stone walls, of Mistress Marjorie's torture chamber. She was digging at his internal tissues, right up inside his pooper, right up inside his poop-chute, with her long red fingernail, and still she could not reach the maddening itch inside the pit of his bowels at the darkest and stinkiest core of his perverted manhood.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," the man groaned.
The woman worked her finger in and out of his asshole. She could feel his rectum being pushed and pulled by her bold and stiffened digit's finger-fucking motion. He groaned again, even louder this time than the last.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh," was the sound he made.
Then the woman pulled her finger all the out of the man's hairy asshole. His asshole clutched desperately at her fingertips right up until the time the tip of her digit came popping out of his cute puckered bung.
"No more?"
"No more finger."
"Real fucking now?"
"In a sec."
"Please hurry."
"I'll be as slow as I please."
"Sorry, Mistress. I lost myself."
"That happens often. Too often."
"I'm sorry."
"You may be in need of obedience training," she said.
The woman raised the tip of her right middle finger to her face slowly, with wide eyes.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch held the tip of that finger under her nose. She sniffed.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel a void inside his asshole, a void that yearned to be filled, filled with hard rubber.
The gorgeous black-haired female smiled as she sucked the scent of the slave's ass into her sinuses.
He was ripe.
Stinky...
She liked that.
The woman quickly squeezed a fresh snake of jelly onto her right fingertips and began to lubricate the entire length of the dildo.
The woman put a little extra jelly on the molded rubber head of the ebony member.
She knew that this was the part of the bogus boner where the lubrication would end up doing the most good.
If the tip of the dildo did not get inside the man's butt, then none of the dildo would.
The woman then crawled up on top of the torture table.
She sprawled herself out on top of the man's ravaged and welt-covered back. She held herself up on her toes. Her arms were straight beneath her, her palms on the wood on either side of the man's underarms.
"Slave?"
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Relax."
"I'll try."
"Succeed."
"Yes, Mistress."
She pushed the blunt black tip of the dildo in between the cheeks of the man's ass.
She rubbed the tip of the dildo up and down the entire length of Thomas Froelich's ass crack.
She couldn't help but notice he moaned each time she touched his bung with the pole.
He shivered violently when the dildo touched his asshole. He became covered with gooseflesh.
He shivered so hard he looked as if he were trying to get out of his skin. The handsome yet subservient stud could feel the little hairs at the back of his neck standing on end once again.
The woman stopped moving the tip of the dildo up and down the crack of his ass when the molded rubber head of the spurious member was poised directly on the sex slave's anxiously throbbing asshole. The woman adjusted her hips so that the shaft of the dildo was at the appropriate angle for deep-anal penetration. She tensed the muscles in the cheeks of her ass, and she pressed her femininely round buttocks together as tightly as she could get them. She began to push.
He began to open.
She pushed inside.
CHAPTER FOUR
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his asshole being forced to open further than it had ever opened before.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel his asshole opening so wide that it turned into a gaping mouth. She could tell that all of the puckers in his bung hole were smoothed by the stretching.
The sex slave's asshole felt as if it were being stretched as far as it could possibly go-just like a rubberband that was stretched to the snapping point.
He knew for a fact that the head of the black rubber dildo was thicker than anything he had ever forced out of that hole-and it was certainly thicker than anything his mommy had ever shoved up inside his aching bowels.
He knew he would have remembered a turd anywhere near as thick as the tool the woman was shoving inside his hot hot fanny at that very moment.
He felt great pain, and the man could feel the entire surface area of his body becoming lathered with the cold sweat of his pain and his terror in an instant.
He could smell a sour scent rising from his armpits.
It was a bitter almondy scent-as if the man were oozing poison from his underarms or something like that.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh, too thick," he said.
"Wrong," the dominatrix said with a cruel laugh.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, you are ripping me," he said.
"Good," the black haired woman said with a snort.
Her nostrils flared widely, becoming gaping, as she snorted. She sounded like a pig.
"You are tearing me apart," the sex slave screamed.
"Yes, good, isn't it," the woman exclaimed.
She held no compassion-not an ounce in her soul.
"I don't think I can do it. I don't think-"
"I don't want to hear about your petty insecurities."
"I can tell that you are making me bleed."
"I fully intended on making you bleed, fool."
"Ohhhhhhh, I'll never be the same. Never."
"No harm done there, as far as I can tell, jerk."
"Ohhhhhhh, you are making me bleed to death."
"Stop being so dramatic, mother-fucker," she said.
"Please, Mistress Marjorie, don't call me that."
"I will call you whatever the fuck I please."
"But-please-please-please not that," he whined.
"Motherfucker. Motherfucker. Motherfucker."
"Oh God, I wish I could covered my ears," he screamed.
"MOTHERFUCKER MOTHERFUCKER," she screamed loudly.
She placed her lips very close to the man's right ear as she screamed these words. The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his eardrum being injured by the intense volume the woman mustered with her incredible lungs.
The man felt as if he had been stabbed up the fanny with a red hot poker. The cold sweat beaded up across his deeply furrowed forehead and began to drip downward-downward toward his blinking and reddened eyes.
"MOTHERFUCKER. MOTHERFUCKER," the woman screamed.
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooo," the man replied.
"COCKSUCKER COCKSUCKER," she hollered.
"Please, please, please, please," he chanted.
He began to toss his head from side to side with reckless abandon, just as if he were saying "no" over and over again-but the woman was smart enough to know better. The leather-clad dominatrix bitch knew that the man meant precisely the opposite by the violent tossing of his head. His facial features were contorting horribly by this time.
"MOTHERFUCKER. MOTHERFUCKER," she bellowed.
"It's TRUE," the slave heard himself screaming back.
"You fucked your mother. You fucked her pussy," the woman taunted in the sex slave's ear.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, it is a nightmare-a nightmare," the man said, praying that he could clog his ears and filter out her horrible words.
They say that the truth hurts.
Well, this axiom has seldom been as true as it was at that moment. The man could feel the tip of the greased-up dildo pushing past his tight tubular sphincter muscle.
The handsome yet subservient stud could fee! the tip of the ebony ersatz erection pushing right up into the softer-and more elastic-flesh of his inner colon. Just when the pain became so severe that he didn't think he would be able to handle it any longer, he could feel the pain begin to lessen.
Just as had been the case when the woman was beating the shit out of him with her bamboo and black leather riding crop, the man could feel the sharpness of his pain dulling into an ache that was blending perfectly with the ache of desire he was feeling in his ass and in his cock and balls.
It was as if his sexually aroused nervous-system were translating his pain into pleasure before allowing those signals to get to the muscular man's brain.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel his asshole surrendering to the inevitable penetration. His asshole gave up its involuntary and painful battle against the penetration of the dildo-more because the muscles in the man's asshole were exhausted than for any other reason he could think of.
Still, the tip of the dildo did not push inside very quickly. In spite of the fact that the woman was pushing as hard as she possibly could, the tip of the dildo was only violating the bound stud's internal passageway a fraction of an inch at a time.
The inner bowels had to stretch and straighten to accommodate the bulk of the phony phallus. He could feel sharp pains inside his ass, and he could tell that there were places where the internal walls were being stretched too far.
He could tell that he really was ripping up inside his colon. He could feel something wet and sticky inside his ass and it took him a moment or two to figure out what that substance was.
But then it occurred to him in a flash. It was blood-blood from his recently opened internal wounds.
The handsome man could feel the tip of the dildo getting closer and closer to the magic spot within him-the magic focal point of his deep-anal craving.
He could tell that something wonderful was going to happen inside his body when the tip of the dildo touched that magic spot for the first time.
"So good," he said.
His eyes were closed so tightly that his eyelids were deeply wrinkled.
"Like it?" the woman asked. She made a remarkably authentic purring sound as she pushed.
"It feels great. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Harder."
"Harder?"
"Yes, fuck me as hard and fast as you can."
"Are you certain you know what you are saying?"
"I know what I am saying. I NEED to be reamed."
"Ummmmmmmm, you came to the right place, scumsucker."
"Make me come, Mistress Marjorie," the man said.
"Come?"
"Yes, make me come by fucking me," the man said.
"Your cock is going to squirt from the buggery?"
"No, this is a different type of coming, Mistress."
"What kind of coming is that, slave?" she asked.
"I am going to come inside my asssss," the man said, hissing the final sound as if he were doing an impression of a snake in the grass.
She shoved downward with her femininely round lower torso very hard. The dildo was three-quarters of the way inside his ass, yet his ass already felt as if it were filled as full as it could get.
He had nary a idea where those extra few inches were going to be stored.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch moaned with delight. The handsome yet subservient stud was confused.
He couldn't understand how the woman could be experiencing physical joy.
After all, she was using a spurious member.
But there was something that the sex slave did not know.
He didn't know that there were little rubber bumps on the base of the dildo-and that the woman had worn the dildo so that those little rubber bumps were pressing directly against her little man in the boat-her clitoris.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch would be able to make herself come if she fucked the man's asshole with that humongous dildo for long enough.
She shoved downward with her loins once again.
She shoved the remainder of the dildo inside him.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so fucking deep," the man screamed.
His eyes were closed so tightly that premature crows feet were forming at the corners.
His nose was moving up and down as he felt the dildo pressing deeper and deeper into his colon.
As his rather large nose moved up and down, crinkles formed all the way across its bridge.
His back teeth were clenched together so tightly that his jaw ached from the exertion.
The handsome man found that he hardly minded the slight discomfort in his lower face.
The sensations were next to nothing compared to the roaring pleasure he felt in his ass.
The man was clenching his back teeth together so tightly that the muscles at the sides of his face were protruding quite far.
There was a single vein at the man's right temple, very close to the surface, that was throbbing visibly.
His lips were stretched back over his front teeth. His face was the picture of concentration.
His face had contorted itself into a perfect cross between a smile and a grimace.
The handsome man's face was every bit as red as the skin on a ripe tomato by this time.
The beautiful woman could feel her black pubic patch pressing flat against the y-shaped cleft at the very top of the crack of the man's ass, very close to the small of Thomas Froelich's back, directly in between the twin dimples that indicated the location of the sex slave's kidneys.
She could feel the outer edges of her protruding and slightly curled back inner cunt lips touching the base of his large scrotal sack.
He couldn't believe how stuffed his ass felt. He felt as if he were being impaled by the rubber pole. He felt as if the dildo were pushing all the way through him. He felt impaled like a butterfly on a pin on display beneath glass in a plush historical museum somewhere.
The handsome yet subservient stud would not have been surprised if the tip of the dildo had come popping out of his mouth at that point.
He could feel the tip of the dildo touching the focal point of his deep-anal desire for the very first time. He could feel a thunderbolt of pleasure ripping through him.
He could feel the pleasure starting at his tailbone.
The rush of pleasure shot up his spine toward the base of the sex slave's skull.
The handsome man could feel the pleasure getting as far as the base of his skull where the enjoyment paused and retreated rather than exploding directly into the gray matter of his brain as the ecstasy of an orgasm would have.
He could tell that the beautiful woman was not going to have to touch that magic internal spit very many times at all with the tip of the dildo before he would come inside his ass just as he had earlier told her he would.
"Please."
"Please, what?"
"Please fuck."
"Fuck softly?"
"No." . "Fuck slowly."
"No."
"Fuck hard?"
"Yes."
"Fuck fast?"
"Yes."
"No," she said.
The woman continued to press down with her lower torso in spite of the fact that the dildo was already all the way inside the young man's ass. This created the illusion within the sex slave, that the dildo was sinking deeper into his internal tissues, which, of course, was quite impossible.
She began to gyrate.
She writhed.
She moved the dildo in slow sensuous circles within him.
She used the molded head and the long thick shaft of the fake cock to stretch at the man's sphincter colon and inner bowels. He stretched in every possible direction.
She moved her hips back and the sex slave could feel the molded black head of the dildo making direct contact with his prostate gland, thus enhancing the already intense pleasure inside his horny fanny.
CHAPTER FIVE
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the young man, the woman began to withdraw.
To the sex slave's dismay, she withdrew every bit as slowly as she had initially penetrated.
She withdrew a fraction of an inch at a time, and the man could feel his rectum tugging upward.
His asshole was being stretched up and away from the rest of the cleavage between his buns.
There was a frightening moment or two for the slave when he thought his asshole was seriously going to come popping right out of his body.
The woman did not stop withdrawing until only the head of the dildo remained inside his asshole.
Then she paused at the top of her fuck stroke and the dominatrix bitch took a deep breath.
The gorgeous black-haired female completely filled her lungs with air at that point.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch then grunted out all of the air at once. She had just enough dildo in his asshole to keep the mouth of his rectum from slamming shut on her.
As she grunted out the air the man could feel a blast of wind on the back of his head, on the nape of his neck, and on the welts that crossed his back directly in between his broad shoulder blades.
The woman slammed down as hard as she could with her femininely round lower torso as she grunted all of the air out of both of her lungs simultaneously. She shoved the entire length of the greased dildo into the man's asshole in one fell swoop. She could hear the man's asshole making a wet farting noise as the rapid violation displaced gas and blood.
The gorgeous black-haired female heard the man let out a savage and heart-felt groan of his own at that point.
The handsome yet subservient stud opened his eyes so wide that the whites were visible all the way around his irises. His eyes bulged.
They bugged.
Thomas Froelich could feel a great pressure behind his eyes-and there was a frightening moment or two when the man thought his eyeballs were going to come popping right out of his bone sockets.
In retrospect, the man realized that he was more startled than injured by the violent violation of his asshole.
The muscular hunk had simply been unaware of the fact that his asshole could go from completely empty to completely full with that kind of rapidity.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so deep," he screamed, as he felt the tip of the dildo touch the focal point of his deep-anal desire for the second time.
He could feel a second rush of pleasure coursing through him and the same thing was happening to the ebony-tressed bombshell.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch could feel her clitoris grinding wonderfully against the base of the dildo. The gorgeous black-haired female could feel little ripples of feminine enjoyment rolling up and down the entire length of her spine. She could tell that those ripples of pleasure were going to get a little more intense each time she stabbed the dildo into him.
She knew that her pleasure was not going to stop mounting until her feminine sexual arousal reached the saturation point and her womanly orgasm became a matter of inevitability.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel various muscles throughout his body starting to tense up on him involuntarily. The man could feel his anal horniness having a definite effect on his respiratory system.
His breaths were getting steadily shorter and closer together.
The muscular hunk was panting.
Like an animal.
The muscular hunk was breathing so hard and so fast that he really did sound and feel as if he were purposefully attempting to hyperventilate himself.
Then the beautiful woman rammed the dildo up into the young man's asshole particularly hard and he could feel explosions going off inside his bowels. Massive, incredible explosions.
Explosions of pleasure. Explosions of bliss.
Explosions of ecstasy. Explosions of manly heaven.
"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH," the man screamed.
The dominatrix bitch did not stop fucking his ass.
"CCCCOOOOMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG," he called out, violently black haired woman fucked him harder than ever.
The leather-clad dominatrix bitch started out fucking the young man with a curious side to side motion. Indeed, for the initial portion of the buggery, the woman moved her hips from side to side almost as much as she moved them up and down.
"COMING. COMING SO HARD," the sex slave said.
"That's it. Come inside your ass, mother-fucker."
"COMING. I'M COMING INSIDE MY ASS," he screamed.
"Inside your tight bloody ass, cocksucker."
"I'M COMING. COMING INSIDE MY BRAIN," he screamed.
"If you have a brain, chump," the woman said.
She looked down between their bodies and watched the dildo moving in and out of his asshole. She could see the red blood on the black pole.
She could tell that the ersatz erection, the boner that never softened, was DEFINITELY going to be wearing a crimson coat by the time the reaming was completed.
She could see that most of the blood was being pushed into a thick ring around the base of the spurious phallus from her natural in and out ass fucking motion.
The man could feel the explosions of pleasure starting at his bowels and spreading outward from there. The pleasure spread in ever-increasing, evergrowing concentric circles.
The pleasure spread like lines on a radar screen. The pleasure spread like ripples in a smooth pond interrupted by the flight of a tossed round pebble.
The man could feel his sense of time and space being altered by the intensity of the sensations he was experiencing at that moment.
The muscular hunk could feel his sense of space being shattered.
Indeed, the man was only vaguely aware of where he was.
The muscular hunk was only vaguely aware of with whom he was with. Mistress Marjorie was just a dildo to him by this time.
The man's sense of time was severely elongated by the intensity of his pain, and then by his orgasmic anal pleasure. His sense of time was so elongated that each second felt like a minute and each minute felt like an hour. The muscular hunk thought the ass fuck would NEVER end.
The man could feel his orgasmic pleasure spreading until it affected all of his nerve-endings, with the exception of those in his hands and feet where he couldn't feel anything because of the steel bondage the dominatrix bitch had administered many long minutes before.
The handsome yet subservient stud could feel the pleasure once again shooting up his spine. But this time the pleasure did not stop at the base of his skull. This time the pleasure did not even PAUSE at the base of the muscular sex slave's skull.
The pleasure, this time around, exploded directly into the man's already reeling brain.
"YYYYYEEEEESSSSS," he screamed, in spite of the fact that he was still tossing his grossly contorting face from side to side with reckless abandon. He felt as light as a feather.
He felt as if he were floating through air.
The handsome yet subservient stud felt as if he were going for a blissful ride on cloud nine.
The man felt as if he were levitating. The muscular hunk felt as if he were astral-projecting, just like the Hindus do when they meditate for hours on end.
The handsome man had the odd but wonderful sensation that his physical self and his spiritual self were parting. His physical self remained on the torture table.
His spirit, on the other hand, felt as if it were drifting upward toward the ceiling of the dungeon-like space in the dominatrix's apartment.
The muscular hunk felt as if he could feel the earth spinning on its axis, and the really weird thing was that he felt as if he were spinning in precisely the opposite direction.
But the best thing about the deep-anal orgasm he experienced at that moment was that, when it was over, he was just as horny as ever. When it was over he still wanted to get reamed just as badly. Worse, maybe. If anything the come enhanced rather than stifled his passion.
It was at this time that the handsome man realized that this was only the first of his orgasms. He knew that there were more where that one came from.
There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to come more than once-and he was starting to think that he might even end up coming more times than he could possibly count. He was starting to think that the black haired bombshell was going to teach him what multiple orgasms were all about.
She continued to pick up the tempo and the pressure of her fucking movements as she went along. She now was fucking almost exclusively up and down-keeping her side to side hip movements to a minimum.
She could feel her clitoral arousal getting closer and closer to the saturation point. The man could tell that he was not going to sop coming until the woman stopped fucking.
The dominatrix bitch was the only one who knew that the end of the fuck was approaching.
She could feel most of the muscles in her body tensing up on her involuntarily-and now it was she who was breathing as if she were purposefully attempting to hyperventilate herself.
The man exploded into his second come.
Then his third.
The muscular hunk stopped counting.
Numbers no longer mattered.
Only sensations mattered.
The man felt as if he had spent his entire life waiting on the launching pad and now he had finally blasted off. The launching pad was sexual and so was the blast-off.
The handsome man felt as if he were in the stratosphere, straddling a black cigar-shaped rocket-ship. He felt as if he were headed into the depths of outer space.
The muscular hunk felt as if he were heading toward other solar systems. Other galaxies.
Into another universe.
The muscular hunk felt as if he were headed for another dimension. He was headed for the land of the sensates.
He was headed for the fifth dimension.
The muscular hunk was headed for a place where time and space had ceased to exist. He was headed for a place where only sensation existed and only the intensity of sensation held any import.
Then the beautiful woman rammed the entire length of the dildo into the man and kept it there. She ground her clit against the bumps at the base of the dildo furiously.
She screamed.
They came together.
It was an orgasm that blew their minds apart and shattered their perception of reality from that moment onward.
That orgasm forever altered their entire concept of sex. From that time forward, this singular experience would define the word "orgasm" for both of them.
CHAPTER SIX
The beautiful black-haired bombshell pulled the disgustingly messy dildo all the way out of Thomas's asshole. She pulled the tip out very slowly so that his asshole would not be forced to slam shut on him.
After all, that's why turds are tapered. She looked down at the slimy fake cock and she had an idea. She knew just what she was going to make her sex slave do next.
The handsome and passionate subservient could feel how badly his asshole was injured for the first time now that all of his deep-anal horniness had been thoroughly appeased.
He could feel a small trickle of blood continuing to ooze from his asshole. The blood was rolling down toward the base of his balls where it was getting all crusty.
He could tell that his ass was going to be sore for awhile.
The muscular and ravaged submissive could tell that he was not going to be able to take a healthy shit for a long time without thinking about the leather-clad dominatrix bitch.
Mistress Marjorie climbed off the torture table and stood alongside the table, still glancing down frequently at the scum that caked the head and shaft of her ersatz pecker. She ran the tip of her tongue back and forth across her lips to moisten them.
Then she began to unlock the steel cuffs that held the sex slave's wrists and ankles in place.
"Look at this disgusting mess you made," she said.
"Gosh, I'm sorry, Mistress Marjorie," he replied.
"You have gotten blood and scum all over the dildo."
"I couldn't help it, Mistress. I couldn't."
"Well, you will have to be punished for this."
"What are you going to make me do, Mistress?"
"I am going to make you lick the dildo clean."
"Please-no-not that. Not that-anything but that, Mistress Marjorie."
"Yes, I'm afraid that that will be your punishment," the dominatrix bitch proclaimed.
"Oh God-I can feel myself getting sick to my stomach."
"I already told you what happens to slaves who puke."
"Yes, Mistress. I don't want my tongue ripped out."
"Even full-fledged masochists have their limits."
"Yes, Mistress," the businessman said subserviently, his eyes avoiding hers religiously.
He was still feeling very embarrassed by her earlier accusations of motherfucking, and his subsequent confession to the same. He knew that his pain was not through. His degradation was not through.
His humiliation was not through. As a matter of fact, his pain, degradation and humiliation were merely beginning for the man.
The buxom professional dominatrix even massaged the man's fingers and toes lovingly after she had removed the handcuffs.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell wanted to make sure that all of the feeling returned to his hands and feet. She wanted him to be able to use his hands and feet. He was going to be needing them before long.
The handsome and passionate subservient could feel his fingers and toes getting very very cold just before the sensation returned.
The beautiful woman then helped the man off the torture table. The muscles in his legs were weak from all of the abuse he had received.
He collapsed onto the bare wood floor of the torture chamber.
He had tried to stand but found himself on his hands and knees at the woman's feet.
She told him not to bother to get up.
"Kneel up straight so you can get at the dildo with your mouth, slave," the dominatrix spat.
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie." The handsome and passionate subservient had a voice that sounded very weak. He lifted his head and gazed wearily at the disgustingly messy dildo.
"Lick it," she said. She placed her hands on her hips. She had her fingers pressed together and her fingertips were pointing straight down toward her spiked and open-toed high heels.
The woman stood with her shoulders back and her chin tilted upward proudly. She took a deep breath and puffed out her chest.
As the gorgeous bombshell took a deep breath her tits rose up even higher on her chest than they did normally, still supported at their base by the half-cups at the top of her black leather corset.
And that is really saying something, because the foxy woman's tits rested damn high on her chest in the first place. Her nipples were harder and more erect than ever.
She sucked her tummy in. Her usually flat belly became slightly concave. She had her back straight at first-and then she arched her back.
The woman bent her knees slightly and postured herself so that her femininely sloped loins-and therefore her soaking wet pussy and dildo-were out in front of the rest of her deliciously shapely torso.
The woman stood with her spiked high heels a little more than shoulder-width apart on the bare wood floor of the makeshift dungeon.
The man could see that most of the blood and the slime on the dildo was gathered in a thick ring at the base of the dildo, around the very hilt of the hard-rubber pecker.
"Lick," she said.
"Please don't make me."
"I SAID LICK."
"Please."
"Don't defy me," she said. The beautiful black-haired bombshell slapped the sex slave right across the face six times.
She slapped him three times on either cheek- three times with the palm of her hand and three times with the knuckles at the back of her hand.
The handsome and passionate subservient knew that her really had no choice, so he began to lick.
The muscular and ravaged submissive parted his lips and stuck pout his tongue as far as he possibly could. He concentrated on making the tip of his tongue as pointy as possible. He stiffened his tongue slightly.
He could see that the blood around the base of the dildo was already coagulating and hardening and getting crusty with its exposure to the fresh air. He figured he had best hurry up and get the unpleasant task over with.
The crusty blood was only going to get crustier, and the handsome businessman did not like the idea of licking anything off of that ersatz erection that might be chewy.
He went about his task tentatively at first.
But the movements of his tongue gained in eagerness and enthusiasm as he went along.
The man did not stop licking until the dildo was completely clean. He did not stop licking until the only thing making that hard-rubber ebony pole wet and shiny was the sweet clear spittle from the submissive's steamy mouth.
"Good job," the dominatrix bitch said quickly.
She gave her handsome sex slave a pat on the head.
"What are you going to make me do now?" he asked.
"I want you to stay on your knees," the woman said.
As clues went, the man thought that was a good one.
"You are going to make me eat our pussy?"
"Good guess, slave. You are a smart slave."
"Thank you very much, Mistress Marjorie."
"You're very welcome. I hope you enjoy eating pussy."
"Very much, Mistress. I love it," he replied. "I have been told I have a nice tasting cunt."
"I know that you have a nice smelling cunt."
"Thank you. You can sniff my pussy all you like."
"Thank you. I find this quite an honor," he said.
"And so you should, mother-fucker," she said.
"It feels quite natural kneeling before you."
"Do you feel as if you are praying, sex slave?"
"Yes, Mistress. I feel as if i am praying to a new goddess or something," he said.
"I like that notion, slave. I like it a lot."
The man once again parted his lips and allowed the tip of his tongue to protrude as far as it would go. He began to kiss and lick and even bite a little at the insides of the beautiful woman's inner thighs. He started down by her slightly bent knees and kissed and licked at her flesh right through her sexy black fishnet stockings as he moved his mouth upward slowly-a fraction of an inch at a time- toward the sides of her thoroughly engorged vulva.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell could feel her breath catch as she felt his lips and his tongue getting steadily closer and closer to her soaking wet poontang.
The handsome and passionate subservient could feel his salivary gland working overtime. He found that he had to swallow frequently to keep drool from rolling out of his mouth and onto his strong chin.
He had a broad jaw. There was a deep dimple in the center of his chin that reminded the black-haired woman of Cary Grant or maybe Kirk Douglas.
The muscular and ravaged submissive certainly looked good enough to be a Hollywood movie star, as far as the professional bitch was concerned.
The man reached up with both hands. He placed the blunt and thick tips of his fingers along the outer edges of the woman's pussy. He curled his fingers at the knuckles and pulled her cunt lips open.
He could see the stead stream of cunt juice rolling from the base of her pink gas, down into the crack of her ass and down the insides of her thighs. The natural lubrication, Thomas Froelich thought to himself silently, looked like so many melted pearls as it oozed from her juicy honey pot.
"Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm, that feels great, slave," she said, her back teeth pressing together.
"I'm glad you like it." The handsome and passionate subservient pulled his tongue away from her intimate flesh only long enough to speak these words. He then immediately resumed his super-sexy laving and smooching.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I'm getting so fucking hot, so fucking hot, so FUCKING hot," the woman said. She tilted her head back for a moment so that her face was tilted upward toward the ceiling of the torture chamber-toward the human skulls that were suspended up there.
But she did not see the ceiling and she did not see the skulls.
Her eyes were closed.
Tightly.
Her lids were wrinkled.
Her long black eyelashes were crushed desperately against her high cheekbones. He had her pussy tugged apart so far with the tips of his long thick fingers that her poontang looked to him like a slab of raw meat.
He could see how swollen her clit was.
Her love button even looked like it wanted to come popping right out of its little nest at the top of her cunt.
The handsome and passionate subservient placed the pointy tip of his tongue on the inch-long patch of mucous membrane in between the base of the woman's pussy and her totally hairless asshole. The woman's natural lubrication was gathered particularly thickly at that point.
His tastebuds tingled. The woman had been telling the truth before.
Her pussy really was tasty.
She certainly had the tastiest cunt Thomas Froelich had ever licked. The woman tasted as if there were really honey-hot honey-dribbling from the inside of her torrid twat.
The handsome man began to flick the tip of his tongue lightly and quickly up and down the outermost portions of the woman's quivering quim. He allowed his tongue to come very close to her clit without actually touching it.
He was teasing her with his flicking tongue tip.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The handsome man allowed the tip of his tongue to flick within a fraction of an inch of the woman's little man in the boat without making direct contact with it.
He knew that he could make the woman come very quickly if he placed his tongue-his constantly moving tongue-on her little man in the boat and left it there.
The handsome man could tell that the woman's feminine sexual arousal was already very very close to the saturation point.
The beautiful woman could feel various muscles throughout her body tensing up on her involuntarily-and she could tell that this was a difficulty that was going to get a hell of a lot worse before it got better.
The handsome man forgot to swallow. He drooled.
He flicked the tip of his tongue up and down the entire length of her pussy slash in between her inner and outer cunt lips, once again allowing his tongue to come dangerously close to her love button without actually touching it.
The handsome man could tell that the woman was ready to explode inside. He also knew that the quantity of pleasure the woman would experience with her orgasm was in direct relationship to the amount of time the man made her wait for that ultimate bliss. He knew that the longer he took to get her horniness to the point of no return, the better it was going to feel for the black-haired bitch when all of that prurient tension was released simultaneously in the form of a fantastic clitoral orgasm.
The handsome man flicked the tip of his tongue lightly and quickly back and forth across the outermost edges of the professional dominatrix bitch's protruding and slightly curled back inner labia.
Then the handsome man worked the tip of his tongue in between Mistress Marjorie's inner cunt lips and she shivered violently.
"Uggggggggggggggggggggggg, so good," she said.
The handsome man could tell that he lower half of his face was going to be all wet and shiny with cunt juice by the time he was through eating out the dominatrix's cunt.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so fucking hot," she said.
The man had the tip of his tongue on the woman's piss hole. He was touching her less than an inch away from and directly below the fiery bulb that was the focal point of her feminine cravings. She yearned for him to lick upward. The woman was so hot that she felt as if she were going to explode into orgasm the very instant the man made direct contact with her love button.
"Yesssssssssssssssssssssssss," she hissed, sounding like a snake with a forked tongue.
The man licked downward instead of up. He worked the tip of his tongue busily from side to side to push the beautiful woman's cunt lips further apart than they were already.
The handsome businessman worked the tip of his tongue up under the woman's pubic bone.
The handsome and passionate subservient poised the tip of his tongue at the mouth of the ebony-tressed fox's fuck hole-her eager and needy fuck hole.
The muscular and ravaged submissive stiffened his tongue once again and plunged the tip of his pink taster right up into her juicy and smelly pussy. She made a frenzied and frantic gurgling noise down in her throat. His tongue pushed deeper and deeper into her quim. He had his handsome head tilted to one side as he did this, and this odd positioning of his head confused the bitch for a moment or two. Then it occurred to her. The beautiful black-haired bombshell realized that the man wanted to avoid touching her clitoris with the tip of his nose. The handsome and passionate subservient was smart enough to know that almost any direct contact with her clit was apt to trigger her orgasm-prematurely as far as he was concerned. He knew that she was covering at the edge of her ultimate pleasure.
He wanted to see how long he could keep her there.
He wanted to keep her teetering at the edge of the sexual cliff.
He wanted her to yearn for as long as he could to plummet into the bottomless abyss of her womanly ecstasy.
The man went on a vain search for the mouth of the woman's womb with the tip of his tongue.
It didn't take the bombshell very long at all to figure out that the man's pink and stiffened tongue was neither long enough nor thick enough to appease her frantic deep-vaginal urges. She knew that the appeasement of her inner pussy was something that only her sex slave's big cock could accomplish adequately for her.
The muscular and ravaged submissive wiggled the tip of his tongue around inside the woman's pussy pressing with the tip against various internal tissues with various pressures. Then he began to work his tongue in and out of her cunt. He could feel her inner cunt lips gripping and tugging at his tongue. He could feel his tongue being tugged by its roots. The roots of his tongue were down at the bottom of his mouth-not very far at all from his hyperactive salivary gland.
He could tell that it was not a good idea to tease her for much longer. Her breathing was becoming erratic with her lust.
He decided that he had teased her for long enough. The truth of the matter was that the young businessman feared the beautiful dominatrix bitch would hurt herself-pull a muscle or something-if he teased her any longer.
She was making those gurgling sounds deep down inside her gullet once again, and the sounds were more frantic and urgent than ever.
The beautiful woman's face was very red.
The bombshell's tits were heaving up and down on her chest gloriously as she desperately sucked air deep as she could into her lungs again and again. She was slick with sweat.
Her sweat was hot.
It was the steamy perspiration of her sexual exertion.
"I'm soooooooooooooooooooo close," the woman said.
He knew.
He pulled his tongue all the way out of her pussy.
The handsome man placed the tip of his right forefinger at the very top of her pussy.
He used the tip of that finger to touch her clitoral foreskin as gingerly as he could.
He peeled the clitoral foreskin upward, tugging the fleshy sheath in between her twin pubic curls at the base of her sloped mound.
He rendered her little man in the boat unadulteratedly naked and vulnerable to his oral caress.
He then puckered his lips. He looked like he was about to whistle a merry tune or something.
The handsome subservient then blew cool air onto the woman's hot hot love button. She loved it. She shivered violently-moaned loudly.
The beautiful dominatrix could tell that something simply spectacular was about to happen inside her femininely sloped loins. She could not wait.
The handsome man then flicked outward with his tongue as lightly and quickly as he could.
The handsome and passionate subservient looked as if he were doing a perfect impression of a bullfrog capturing a horsefly in mid-air as he flicked out with the tip of his pink and eager tongue in that manner.
He touched the center of the woman's sexual pleasure as lightly and quickly as he possibly could.
He licked that fiery bulb so lightly that the caress could have been made by an eyelash-or perhaps by a butterfly's wing. He sought-and he found- the most subtle possible clitoral caress. He knew that he didn't have to touch the woman's little man in the boat very hard.
After all, it WAS the most sensitive part of her entire body. In spite of the fact that he touched the engorged clit as if he were touching it with a downy feather, the woman could feel a disproportionately intense rush of spawned pleasure ripping through her comely body.
The woman could feel the pleasure shooting through all of her nerve-endings.
She could tell that the man was not going to have to lick in that manner for too long before the massive explosions of pleasure would start inside her cunt and her loins.
She knew that the fireworks were soon going to go off inside her head. She knew that the Earth was going to move. She knew that she was going to feel as if she were in an earthquake, only the earthquake was going to be going on inside her flesh. She knew that she was about to experience a fleshquake.
The man darted outward with the tip of his tongue once again.
He touched her clit a second time, but this caress was no firmer or longer than the first. But her reaction was greater. Her whole body jerked when he made direct contact with the magic spot. She could feel a rush of pleasure sweeping through her that was even more intense than the first one. All of the woman's muscles were tensed up on her involuntarily. She whimpered.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell whined with pleasure. She chewed her lower lip, making that lip look even redder than before.
The handsome and passionate subservient could feel the super-sexy smell of the woman's cunt being drawn automatically into his sinuses-deep into his sinuses. He felt a little dizzy because of the aroma of her oozing cooze.
The buxom professional dominatrix could feel tiny pre-orgasmic spasms in her inner cunt lips. Her inner labia were opening and closing rhythmically-as if they wanted to suck the man's entire fist right up in between them.
The muscular and ravaged submissive dabbed the tip of his tongue at the woman's clit.
He always pulled his tongue away from the magic spot before her orgasmic convulsions had an opportunity to begin.
"MAKE ME COME-MAKE ME COME- GODDAMMIT. MAKE ME COME."
The sex slave decided that it might be a good idea to do what his dominatrix was telling him.
He could tell that her ire and her passion were once again becoming confused
The handsome young man then placed the tip of his tongue on her clit once again and this time he kept it there.
He kept the tip of his tongue perfectly still at first, and he simply alternated the pressure
The handsome and passionate subservient alternated the pressure from gingerly to firm and then back to gingerly once again.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell could feel time coming to stop. She stopped breathing. Her heart felt as if it had stopped beating.
The muscular and ravaged submissive then began to roll the beautiful woman's little man in the boat in a slow and sensuous circle with the tip of his tongue. He rolled that clit around just as if he were rolling a ball-bearing around in a sea of boiling gelatin. He started out licking very gently-and very lightly-but he steadily increased the pressure and the tempo of his tongue's movements as he went along.
Seconds later:
"CCCCOOOOMMMMIIIINNNNGGGG," the woman screamed.
The handsome man could feel a squirt of liquid coming from the woman's piss hole. The fluid struck him on the lower lip.
There might have been a time when the businessman would have thought that the beautiful woman had lost control of her bladder.
Yes, there might have been a time when Thomas Froelich would have thought the raven-haired beauty was pissing on his lower lip. But no longer. He knew better at this point in his life. He knew that the fluid was not piss. As a matter of fact, the handsome man knew that the fluid did not have anything whatsoever to do with the woman's bladder.
The fluid managed to work its way into his mouth and then onto his tongue, onto his tastebuds, his tingling tastebuds-and he realized that that fluid was sweet. It sure as hell was not piss-but rather the woman's feminine ejaculation-proof positive of her orgasm's authenticity. He loved the flavor of that squirting juice. By this time the man was rolling the woman's clit in a very swift little circle.
The handsome and passionate subservient used the tip of his tongue to move the woman's little man in the boat in a series of figure eights.
The muscular and ravaged submissive then began to flick the tip of his tongue back and forth across the woman's love button. Her mouth fell gaping open.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell flopped her tongue in and out of her mouth berserkly.
Indeed, the woman looked as if she were about to have some sort of epileptic seizure.
The handsome man would not have been at all surprised if foam had come pouring from the woman's gaping oral cavity at that moment-or out of her poontang, for that matter. Her loins were snapping back and forth rather violently-and the handsome man realized that he had to become increasingly agile with his massive head and shoulders if he wanted to keep from getting his nose broken by the woman's bucking and practically bald pubic mound.
Soon the young man was flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across the woman's clit as hard and fat as he possibly could.
His tongue tip was literally DRIVING pleasure into her pussy. He slapped at her clit with his bold and curious taster. He was determined to keep licking until the woman's come was completely over. The woman thought that her orgasm was going to go on forever-which gives one a concrete impression of just how severely Mistress Marjorie's sense of time had been elongated.
Just when the woman thought the intensity of her orgasmic convulsions were bound to diminish, the man did something that she did not expect.
The handsome and passionate subservient did something that the dominatrix bitch would not have anticipated in a million years.
The muscular and ravaged submissive wrapped his lips around the woman's clit along with its surrounding tissues. He began to suck.
The handsome man kept the tip of his tongue busy at all times so that he was licking and sucking at the center of her womanly pleasure at the same time, tugging that fiery bulb by its very root
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, hot, hot, hot," she screamed.
She was pressing her cunt against his face as hard as she could just as if she wanted to suffocate her sex slave with her swollen and juicy pussy meat.
The man accomplished his goal. He did continue to suck at the woman's clit until her come was through.
The man had no trouble determining when her come ended as it so happened. She made it obvious.
Not only did the dominatrix bitch stop screaming and making a fuss because of her ultimate pleasure at the end of her come, but all of her muscles completely relaxed at the same time as well.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell was pleased to discover that when her come was over she could once again completely fill her lungs with air.
This was quite a relief. The beautiful woman had been totally unable to breathe while her come was in progress-and she had not been able to breathe very efficiently when her sexual tension had been approaching the saturation point. Because of this, the black-haired bombshell's bloodstream found its supply of fresh oxygen badly depleted- so, naturally enough, the gorgeous hunk of evil woman busily went about the task of replenishing the supply. She continued to pant, but now her panting breaths were getting steadily longer and further apart instead of closer and shorter as they had been when her near-insatiable passion remained to be appeased.
The woman could feel her climactic ecstasy becoming replaced by the absolute warmth and contentment of her post-orgasmic afterglow.
The woman could feel the hot perspiration that that laid a shine across her comely body beginning to cool. In spite of the fact that the torture chamber was kept constantly at precisely seventy-two degrees, the woman felt a tad on the chilly side as her hot sweat cooled on her gooseflesh.
She sighed.
She moaned.
The handsome man removed his lips and the tip of his tongue from the woman's little man in the boat the very instant that her come was through-because the handsome businessman was smart enough and experienced enough to know that her love button was too sensitive to even be touched during those precious first few moments following her spectacular clitoral release.
She whimpered.
She shivered.
The muscular and ravaged submissive looked up at the woman, still kneeling before her subserviently. He looked up at her fantastically gorgeous kisser and she could see that he had an expression of unadulterated adoration on his face. She was not done with him yet.
Not by a long shot.
"Don't get up," she said.
"No?" the slave asked, tilting his head to one side.
"Uh uh," the woman said, shaking her head from side to side.
"You want me to stay on my knees?" he asked.
"That's right, slave. There is more," she said.
"You want me to lick your pussy some more?"
"Not exactly, slave. You see my bladder is full."
The slave was not sure he knew why she brought this up-but he had to admit to himself that he did not like the sound of it.
"Yes, my bladder is so full that it feels as if it is going to burst," the woman said, nibbling a little at her lower lip. The beautiful black-haired bombshell grabbed each of her erect, hypersensitive and super-erogenous nipples in between her thumbs and forefingers-arching her digits at their knuckles so that her long red fingernails would not get in the way-so she could pinch and tweak her feminine erections to her own physical delight.
"Why are you telling me this, Mistress?" he asked.
"I want to know if you are worthy of being my toilet."
"Your t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-toilet?" the slave stammered.
"You got it. You heard me," she replied sternly.
"Oh no, I don't want to, Mistress Marjorie.
"I don't think what you want makes any difference, sucker," the woman said sadistically.
"B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-ut-but-I, oh God-" he said.
"I want to know if a mother-fucker is worthy of being my toilet."
"I don't think so," the man said with tears in his eyes.
"Well, we are going to find out, aren't we?"
"I g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-guess so," he stammered.
"I am going to piss in your stinking mouth."
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie," the man replied.
"I am going to fill your belly with my pee."
"Yes, Mistress Marjorie," the slave exclaimed.
"I don't care if you puke your guts out afterward."
"You won't rip my tongue out if I vomit?" he asked.
"Not this time. I EXPECT you to puke this time."
"I see," the handsome businessman whispered.
"Now, let's get too it. No dilly-dallying."
"Okay," the man said. His lips were quivering.
The handsome and passionate subservient looked as if he were about to break into sobs.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell was telling the truth when she said that her bladder was full. She could tell that she was going to have no trouble opening up the floodgates to let her pee flow when the time came.
The buxom professional dominatrix tried to pretend that he was going to enjoy the flavor. He told himself that he was going to enjoy drinking the woman's piss just as if he were quaffing deeply at a bottle of vintage wine, imported from a chic vineyard in France.
He pushed his head in between her parted thighs.
The submissive's hands were down at his sides. He tilted his head back and turned his face upward toward her cunt. The woman reached down between her own legs with both of her hands at the same time and began to scratch lightly up and down the insides of her thighs with the tips of her long red fingernails. She sighed. Then she placed the tips of her fingers along the outermost edges of her protruding and slightly curled back inner cunt lips. She peeled those lips back so that her piss would have a clear pathway to the sex slave's face.
"Open your mouth."
He did.
"Wider."
He did.
"Still wider."
He tried, but his mouth was already open as far as it could possibly go. His mouth was opened so far that the skin at the corners of his mouth was stretched taut. His mouth opened so far that his jaw ached and his jaw was threatening to lock in the open position.
He tried not to think about the ache in his jaw. He tried to thrust his personal discomfort into the back of his head-as far from his stream-of-consciousness as he could get it-so he would be able to concentrate his attention exclusively on what he was doing.
Then the woman began to piss. The handsome young submissive businessman closed his eyes at the last second. A little voice in the back of his head-his masculine intuition perhaps-told him that the piss would burn his eyes horribly if any of that vile fluid got in them. It was a good thing that the man shut his eyes too, because the dominatrix bitch did something extraordinarily cruel at that moment.
She missed his mouth with her steady stream of steamy yellow piss on purpose at first.
She tinkled all over his handsome face-just to further enhance the sex slave's already acute humiliation and degradation.
She splashed piss all over his face for a moment or two and then she redirected her aim so that the piss went right into his mouth.
The man realized that he only had two choices at this point. He could drink or he could drown.
And that was a lot like having no choice at all, Thomas Froelich thought to himself silently.
He drank.
The stuff tasted awful. The piss burned his tongue. The piss burned the mucous membranes at the insides of his cheeks. The pee burned his throat as it rolled all the way down his gullet to his aching tummy.
The handsome man gagged a little-but finally managed to take the piss down his throat without swallowing at all. This reminded him of his college days when he was a frat brother who frequently chugalugged frosty steins of ice cold beer.
He could tell that he was going to puke his guts up the second he was allowed too. He could tell that that evil piss did not want to stay inside his tummy for very long at all. The woman pissed until her bladder was empty. Still, she was not through with him.
"Now that you have proven yourself worthy of being my toilet, I am going to make you prove that you are worthy of being my toilet paper. Use your tongue to lick the last few droplets of piss out of my pussy," Mistress Marjorie exclaimed loudly.
The sex slave did as he was told immediately- without offering a word of protest.
"Good slave," she said.
Then she saw how pale he was. She could see the beads of cold sweat popping out in a straight line across the handsome man's deeply creased forehead. She could see that he was turning a little green-and it sure as hell was not with envy.
She ran and grabbed a wastepaper basket from the corner of her torture chamber. She placed the basket on the floor in front of the man and he knew what to do.
The handsome and passionate subservient buried his face in the wastepaper basket and heaved.
The muscular and ravaged submissive emptied the vile contents of his belly, and then continued heaving. Streams of tears rolled down his face, over his cheekbones and his cheeks.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell laughed at him. She laughed until there were tears in her dark brown eyes as well.
The buxom professional dominatrix then told him that it was time for him to get back up on the torture table.
The poor slave trembled at those words.
"Mistress... please..." he began, but she silenced him with a quick wave of her hand.
"I did not invite commentary, you worthless worm!" she cried, her voice shrilly cutting to the center of his guts.
"I... I'm truly sorry, Mistress," he said, head bowed, voice humbled.
"Yes, you are, aren't you? Pathetically sorry. A miserably sorry excuse for a human being. I am disgusted by the very sight of you."
The acid taste of her piss lingered in his mouth. Fear gripped his guts.
And yet, her presence, so awesome, so capable of producing terror in him, at the same time drove him to the very limits of his endurance in a far different way.
Truly she was the most desirable of women.
No one he'd ever encountered in his life came close to matching his mistress in sheer erotic force.
It was an energy he could literally feel dancing in the air around him. Tingling at the surface of his skin. Literally making his hair stand on from the static charge.
She smiled-a smile devoid of warmth, mirth, or any other human emotion.
Her function was not to be human to him. Indeed, it was to be inhuman to him. To make him less than a man, to make him crawl, to grovel like a worm... and for this his cock throbbed with an ache that made it seem about to explode from the latent force gathering within.
He wanted her.
For each act of humiliation he was forced to undergo, he wanted her more. And more!
Thomas's body ached with pain unlike any he'd ever before known.
Why then, did he feel so utterly alive?
What was this near-mystic force she seemed to control within him, this energy that welled up from the deepest depths of his mind, body and soul like a black cloud from a cracked crypt?
Why did he want more?
Even if his brain had been able to function, he would have found no answers. These were logical questions attempting to come to grips with an illogical situation. Our desires are at opposite poles from our minds and the analytical processes they so enjoy.
Suddenly he stumbled.
The table towards which she was leading him loomed ahead, but his legs simply refused to function for him.
He fell to his knees, his hand pulling from her grip as he went down.
"Worm!" she barked as he hit the floor, and almost too fast for the eye to see, her arm raised into the air with the deadly riding-crop and then, after hovering a moment, it descended.
With a hard, sickening crack.
"OH!" he cried, feeling the full force of her blow. But for all this, his voice was surprisingly calm sounding.
She swung again.
Once more the sickening crack of hard leather against savaged flesh filled the room.
His body, already aflame with the pain, scarcely noted the increase in torment.
She struck him a third time.
"Up," she said. "Rise. Rise!"
He slowly pulled himself to his knees, but when he attempted to rise further, he knew that it was hopeless.
"Mercy... please... please, Mistress. I will do my best... but..."
"Did you really think I was interested in your pathetic excuses?"
"I cannot... I cannot..."
"You will. NOW!"
She raised the whip once more and Thomas fell to the floor in a fetal position, pulled his head as far into his lap as he could manage and waited for the blows to fall once more.
This time, however, they did not come.
Instead her foot pressed against his side, lightly at first, then with increasing pressure as she leaned her weight into his inert body.
She pushed harder and it finally dawned on him that what she wanted was to roll him over onto his back.
He complied.
She loomed above, symbol of all he desired, all he feared.
The paradox drove him mad with both lust and fear.
He lost the distinction.
One was the other, and both produced the same reaction in him.
Fear was lust... pain was pleasure.
He was fast approaching that point all research psychologists aim for, the break down between opposites, where the interface between one order and another vanishes, and all possibilities rise to the surface.
He was passing through an interface at this very moment as he looked up into her cruel eyes.
"Slave..."
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Despite your worthlessness, I feel you have been punished enough for the moment. I believe I have a reward for you."
"A reward?"
"Yes."
He waited.
She ran her fingers over her crotch, playing lewdly with her pubic mound.
"My cunt," she said finally.
"We are going to fuck?"
"No... you are going to fuck my pussy. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I do, Mistress."
"Good."
His cock head was huge. Throbbing. Bulbous. Purple, and drooling at the mouth like a demented idiot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The beautiful black-haired bombshell led her slave to the torture table once again. All of the numbness in Thomas's backside had worn off by this time.
His ass cheeks and his back were killing him. The welts that the woman had put there with her riding crop felt raw.
His wrists were bound.
Then his ankles.
His chest heaved.
He was wet with sweat.
And his cock was as hard as diamond. As he stretched out on his back-spread-eagled and halfheartedly attempting to writhe-Thomas Froelich's cock flopped on his belly, the tip pointing at his handsome face.
The entire length of his cock was bouncing up and down on his flat stomach, and his balls were more grossly swollen than ever.
The handsome and passionate subservient looked down at his cock and he could see his piss hole opening and closing from the tiny spasms he was experiencing down there.
The muscular and ravaged submissive could feel the temperature of his spunky silver seed rapidly approaching the boiling point.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell couldn't look at the man's cock without thinking how much it looked as if the man's pecker were doing some sort of crazy modern dance.
The movements of the man's pecker were urgent. It was obvious that his dick was very anxious indeed to get inside the beautiful woman's pussy. The tip of his cock was bouncing up and down on his muscularly hard tummy several inches above his bellybutton, the dominatrix bitch did not fail to notice.
"Ummmmmmm, your cock is so big," she exclaimed.
"I want to fill you up with my cock meat," he said.
"Oh, you will. You will stretch me wide open," she said.
"I want to feel the core of your womanhood," he said.
"I want to feel you touch my womb," she said.
"I want to feel your pussy squeezing me," he said.
"I want to feel your ramrod plowing me," she said.
"It is such an honor to fuck a woman as beautiful as you."
"All of my slaves tell me that, mother-fucker."
"I was just saying-" The handsome and passionate subservient could feel his face blushing.
"Don't think that flattery will get you anywhere."
"I didn't," the businessman replied in a whisper.
He sounded very very meek and wee as he responded.
"I don't give a shit about YOU, mother-fucker," she said.
"No?" the man inquired with a look of anguish.
"Hell no. You are just a chunk of meat to me," she said.
"Yes, I should have known that was true," he said thoughtfully, raising one eyebrow.
"The only part of you that I care about is your cock-because that is the part of you that can do magic things for my cunt," she said.
"And your cunt can do magic things to my cock, Mistress Marjorie," the sex slave replied.
"I'm sure I don't give a shit about your pleasure."
"No-of course not, Mistress Marjorie," he said.
"I want you to prolong your come for as long as you can."
"I will give it my best shot, Mistress," he said.
"I want you to stay erect for many minutes, many thrusts."
"But you are so very sexy. How will I hold back?"
"That's your business. Think about baseball."
"B-b-b-b-b-b-but, I don't like baseball," he stuttered.
"Wimp. What are you-a Communist or something?"
"Sorry."
"Think about baseball anyway. But don't come. Don't come until I have come many many times."
"I'll try to hold back-honest I will, Mistress Marjorie," the sex slave whimpered.
"I made you come more than once inside your ass, didn't I?" the beautiful woman queried.
"Yes, many many times-more times than I could possibly count," the subservient exclaimed.
"I am simply asking that you do the same thing for me, mother-fucker," the dominatrix said.
"B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-but-" The handsome and passionate subservient's words refused to come out.
"But what?" The beautiful black-haired bombshell sounded as if she were readying to hit him.
"But, you didn't have to worry about the dildo getting soft," the businessman whimpered.
"No, and I am not going to worry about your cock getting soft either," the professional bitch said.
"No?" the submissive businessman inquired, sounding amazed at this information.
"Uh uh. You are going to be able to keep it up for a long long time, mother-fucker," she said.
"How c-c-c-c-c-can you be so sure?" the sex slave asked.
"Because you are going to be doing it for me- you are going to be fucking me," she said.
With that the woman got up on the torture table. The man could not move a muscle.
She moved so that she was straddling his hips.
She knelt with her knees as far apart on the hard wood torture table as her balance would allow.
The beautiful woman could feel her pussy lips opening, along with her finely tapered thighs.
The black-haired bitch could feel her inner thighs getting slick with cunt juice.
The young man could feel his balls burning as if they were really on fire down there.
The beautiful woman played with her own nipples once again. She got each nipple in between her thumbs and forefingers and squeezed at them so hard that they were flattened between the fleshy tips of her digits.
She gasped and then released her harsh tweak.
They say that within every sadist there lives a masochist who is trying to get out-and Mistress Marjorie, for one, would certainly have testified to the authenticity of this axiom.
The woman ran her fingers through his chest hair.
He could feel his welt-covered back pressing against the oaken platform. His back really hurt, but the pain in his ass cheeks seemed to have lessened, much to the hunk's delight.
The beautiful woman rubbed the man's nipples.
She was smart enough to know that a man's tiny and seemingly insignificant nipples could be every bit as sensuous and erogenous as her own if that man was horny enough.
He moaned as she gingerly stroked his nipples.
She pinched his nipples with the tips of her fingernails very hard and she didn't stop until he screamed out with horrible pain.
She had to let the subservient know who was boss, after all. She then reached down between his legs.
She reached under his balls. She tickled lightly at his hypersensitive scrotal sack with the tips of her fingernails-and it was the businessman's turn to shiver as if he were trying to get out of his skin.
It was the submissive's turn to feel a wave of pleasure coursing through him. The woman clutched his balls and gave them a squeeze.
Then she pushed her right fingertips in between his belly and the top of his cock shaft.
She had her right palm turned upward toward the ceiling of the torture chamber. She curled her fingers slowly at the knuckles.
She formed a cradle for his cock.
She lifted his pecker slowly from his flat tummy.
The woman moved the tip of his cock, upward toward her poontang gash, her quivering quim.
The black-haired bitch whimpered as she touched his piss hole to her throbbing love button.
The dominatrix bitch rolled her little man in the boat in slow circles with his urethra.
The foxy millionairess thought this felt very good-but it was no longer what she wanted most.
The woman could feel her clitoris's role as the center of her womanly pleasure being usurped.
She could feel a new focal point for her desire developing-developing deep inside her pussy.
The new center of her feminine craving was very close to the dimpled source of her cervix.
The new focal point of her womanly desires was less than an inch from the mouth of her womb.
It was so deep inside her pussy that only his cock could scratch that maddening itch.
She rubbed the head of his humongous cock up and down the entire length of her cunt.
There were a couple of reasons why the dominatrix bitch nibbed her cunt lips in this manner.
For one thing, touching his glans to her swollen labia felt very good for both of them.
But there was a second reason-a more practical reason. She was moistening his cock.
She knew that the initial penetration of her pussy would be more comfortable for both of them if both his swollen purple cock head and her oozing fuck hole were wet and slippery from her natural secretions.
Then the woman moved the head of his cock to the base of her gaping pink gash. She concentrated on relaxing the muscles astride her vulva completely-and she was pleased to find that her muscles quickly cooperated with her brain's signals.
She poised the head of the young man's pecker at the mouth of her fuck hole, wiggling to make sure the tip was in between her inner labia.
The woman adjusted her hips so that the shaft of the submissive businessman's cock was at the appropriate angle for deep-vaginal penetration.
She then pushed down with her loins and she could feel her pussy opening like a flower in the springtime to take the bulbous purple head of the businessman's cock she pushed until the entire glans was inside.
She pushed until her inner cunt lips were desperately gripping at the ring of scar tissue at the top of his cock shaft-just below the lower rim of his incredibly swollen cock head. She kept pushing, and it was clear that she was not going to stop pushing until the entire length of his cock was inside her.
She yearned to be filled to the brim with cock meat.
She could feel the tip of his cock getting closer and closer to the mouth of her womb. She could feel the tip of his prick smack hard against her cervix, and that scent a thunderbolt of pleasure coursing the entire length of her backbone.
The woman could feel the rush of pleasure starting at her tail bone, shooting up to the base of her skull, and then returning again.
She could tell that the man was not going to have to touch that magic internal spot with his cock very long to make her come-and she felt as if once she started coming she wouldn't be able to stop.
The woman could feel the tip of the young man's cock on the back wall of her cunt.
The dominatrix bitch found this sensation both thrilling and frightening at the same time.
Her pussy already felt as if it were filled as far as it could go with cock meat.
Yet there were still several inches of shaft at the base remaining to be inserted.
She knew that she was going to have to stretch as far as she could go in every direction.
She shoved the remainder of his tool of masculinity into her aromatic and boiling cunt.
She gasped as she felt the tip of his prick find the core of her passionate womanhood.
The woman's mouth fell open and her eyes opened so that the whites were visible all the way around.
She wiggled her ass from side to side and moved his cock around inside her super-tight quim.
She could feel the muscles inside her swampland cooze squeezing and tugging his dong at the root.
The man could feel a million magic fingers inside her pussy stroking his member.
He felt as if each and every one of those fingers had been put there especially to pleasure him.
She was making him feel as if his whole pecker were being sucked simultaneously by her cunt.
The man could feel his spunk being sucked up out of his humongous scrotal sack.
The submissive could feel a tickle forming at the base of his cock shaft-right where the woman was gripping him snugly with her super-soft vaginal labia.
The handsome and passionate subservient could tell that that tickle could do nothing but grow more intense as long as his cock was all the way inside the woman's tunnel of lust.
The muscular and ravaged submissive could tell that that tickle was going to grow until it was no longer a tickle at all, but rather a fiery comet-like ball of liquid passion.
It would be at that point that he would know his sexual arousal had reached the saturation point, and his orgasm had reached the point of inevitability. At that point it would not make any difference if the man were thinking about baseball or not, her knew from experience.
The woman began to fuck.
She fucked slowly.
She moved from side to side.
She moved up and down.
She yanked his cock with her cunt.
He felt himself getting harder.
He wouldn't have thought it possible.
He felt harder than diamond.
He felt invincible.
He wanted to plow her, but the stringent bondage the dominatrix bitch had administered was keeping his ravaged ass cheeks fast to the oaken platform. His pain and his pleasure were once again blending-once again becoming indistinguishable-inside his reeling brain.
His cock was so thick that the top of the cock shaft was rubbing directly against her little man in the boat.
She could tell, as the tempo of the fuck slowly quickened, that it wouldn't be long before the shaft of the submissive businessman's cock was battering her love button back and forth violently and rhythmically-just like it was a small punching bag being worked over expertly by a particularly talented boxer
She could tell that this stimulation was going to enhance the divine pleasure she was already feeling deep inside her seething fuck hole
The movement of his cock inside her cunt was causing her clitoral foreskin to slide back and for across the crimson crown of her little man in the boat.
Her pussy farted.
His cock displaced gas and juice from her vaginal hole
The beautiful black-haired bombshell could feel herself starting to come The come was shorter and sharper than the clitoral comes she had experienced earlier in the sadomasochistic sex session.
Her come still managed to spread throughout her body however
It still managed to affect each and every one of her nerve-endings, and it still managed to make her scream aloud with her pleasure And when the come was through, as had been the case when the submissive had his first deep-anal climax, the woman knew there was plenty more where that came from.
Now it was her turn to come over and over again.
The buxom professional dominatrix knew it was her turn to have so many sexual climaxes that she couldn't possibly count them all.
Her comes began to snap off inside her femininely sloped loins at a frightening rate, blending into one another, so that the beautiful woman had to doubt if she would have been able to count all of her fantastic sexual releases even if she had been in the mood to try.
Then she felt the man's cock shaft get a little bit thicker than before. She could feel his cock becoming more urgently erect inside her cunt.
She could feel her inner pussy walls being forced to stretch even further than before to accommodate the bulk of the subservient's tool of masculinity. She cried out.
"I CAN'T STOP COMING. I CANNOT STOP ORGASMING."
The sex slave managed to feel a little proud of himself-and pride, as a rule, was not in Thomas Froelich's sexual vocabulary.
The handsome and passionate subservient's cock even managed to grow a millimeter or two longer, pushing even deeper into the soft internal flesh of Mistress Marjorie's underbelly.
Her mouth fell open so far at that moment that the entire head of his cock would have fit inside there.
"I can't-" he said.
"Can't what?"
"Hold back."
"You can't hold back?"
"No, Mistress."
"Then let 'er rip."
"Thank you, Mistress."
"Come inside me."
"Suck me with your cunt."
"Fill my cunt with cream."
The woman could feel herself exploding into her final come of the fuck at that moment.
It was her umpteenth come of the fuck. She had no idea how many mere had been in all.
The beautiful woman was pleased to find-however-that her last come was her best.
The dominatrix bitch's final orgasm was by far her longest and most intense of the hump.
And she knew why that was too. This was not the first time this had happened to her.
The professional bitch knew that she was feeding off her subservient stud's manly ecstasy.
They were orgasming blissfully and simultaneously, a sure sign of some damn fine fucking.
The woman felt as if there were only one orgasm occurring in her gloomy torture chamber.
The orgasm did not belong to her-and it did not belong to her muscular subservient either.
It was THEIR orgasm-and they were sharing the spasms and the convulsions equally.
The dominatrix bitch could feel her ears ringing with the sounds of the duet they were singing.
She could hear the sex slave and herself singing a duet in homage to the ecstasy they shared.
Then the moment of passion was over and the woman pulled his cock out of her juicy cunt.
The woman left the room at that moment, leaving her slave bound to the torture table.
In a private rest room the woman quickly squared over a powder blue bidet and douched herself thoroughly.
Then she returned to the torture chamber and she released the businessman's steel bondage. The man felt as if he would never be able to walk again.
He felt as if he would never be able to use his hands again-and he had an odd thought.
He was suddenly extremely appreciative of the fact that he did not make his living as a pianist.
"You're done. That's the end of the session."
"Ummmmmmmmmm, it was the best, Mistress Marjorie."
"Of course."
"I can't imagine a woman sexier than you," he said.
"Don't try."
"I feel as if i have just had the ultimate sexual experience."
"Not true."
"No? You mean there is MORE?" the submissive asked.
"Certainly."
"Ooooooh, I want to know all about it, Mistress."
"Next time."
The slave pouted.
"Next time," the dominatrix bitch repeated.
"How much do I owe you?" the man said sheepishly, finding the subject of money uncomfortable.
"Let's not talk about that. Have you brought your credit card with you?" the bitch asked.
"Yes-of course," the subservient businessman replied.
"When you get dressed you can just give it to me," she said.
"You aren't going to tell me how much all of this cost?"
"No, you will find out when you get your bill."
"Okay, I suppose that it can't be more than I expected."
"I assure you my fees are reasonable, considering."
"Considering what?" the sex slave asked quickly.
"Considering that I am the very best," she said.
"I will be wanting to take a shower," he said.
"Of course, I'll help you into the shower."
"That's very kind of you." The handsome and passionate subservient had a limp cock now. His prick was dangling thick and low in between his muscular thighs.
But he was still extremely passionate in his heart.
He couldn't wait for his next sadomasochistic sex session with Mistress Marjorie.
"I even have a clean towel laid out for you. Use that handled brush to scrub the welts on your back. We don't want them to get infected, now, do we?"
"No, Mistress."
"Anything I should do when I get out of the shower?"
"Yes."
"What's that?"
"Get dressed, pay the bill, and get the fuck out of here."
"Okay."
"Slave?"
"Yes?"
"Don't dawdle."
"No, Mistress."
"Oh, and slave?"
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Nice fucking."
"Thanks."
The man went into the shower and winced when the hot needles of spray bit into the welts on his back and his thoroughly ravaged buttocks.
CHAPTER NINE
That night, as Mistress Marjorie tried to get to sleep, she did something that she tried never to do. She thought about her past.
Her incestuous past.
The beautiful woman thought back to the days when she was in her early teens, and she was more little girl than she was woman.
And she remembered that she was almost constantly ashamed. It was bad enough that she couldn't seem to think of anything other than sex-sex with both boys and girls-but she was also a bed wetter. This latter fact greatly annoyed Marjorie's mother.
Marjorie's full name was Marjorie Kramer.
Mrs. Kramer, her Mommy Dearest, was a cruel bitch. Mommy Dearest and Daddy Darling were suited for one another. She was a lazy sadist and he was a drunken sadist.
Since Marjorie was an only child, she took the brunt of most of her parents' sadism.
Marjorie recalled the night that Mommy Dearest snuck into her room in the middle of the night and slid a hand up under the covers to see if the sheets were wet.
Unfortunately for little Marjorie, the sheets were soaked with cold urine.
Mommy Dearest didn't know it, but she was about to teacher little girl some of the dominatrix tricks that would make the little girl a millionairess by the time she was twenty-three.
The lights went on.
The sheets were ripped off the bed and Marjorie woke up with her tummy filled with butterflies and her heart in her throat.
"Get out of bed."
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Into the bathroom."
"I'm sorry, Mommy Dearest."
"Sorry isn't enough."
Sony was never enough.
"You are getting purged."
"Please, no, Mommy Dearest."
"You haven't been properly toilet-trained-well I'm fucking going to toilet-train you," Mommy Dearest said with an evil hiss.
"Please, don't purge me. Don't purge my fanny again. It hurts. It hurts so much," the little girl wailed, futilely.
Mommy Dearest paid no attention to her daughter's screaming protests, and Daddy Darling-being drunk and all-slept through all of the commotion.
"You are getting an enema, young lady-whether you like it or not," Mommy Dearest screamed.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," the little girl screamed, kicking. Mommy Dearest had to slap her daughter repeatedly across the face to keep her from physically struggling any further.
Mommy Dearest dragged the little girl into the bathroom and made her remove her flimsy pink nightgown. Marjorie's nightgown had been very short and sheer.
It barely covered her ass and the dark outline of her nipples was visible right through it. Mommy Dearest liked looking at her daughter naked.
She got incestuous sexual kicks out of it.
She liked hurting her virginal daughter, especially in an intrinsically sexual manner.
The little girl stood before her Mommy Dearest every bit as naked as the day she was born.
"Into the tub."
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Face the shower nozzle."
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Jack-knife at the waist and place your palms flat on the tiled wall in front of you."
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Spread your fingers a little further apart you naughty bed wetter," Mommy Dearest exclaimed.
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Push your feet as far apart as you can get them in the tub," Mommy Dearest said, with an evil smile.
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"That's it. Spread them. Press your anklebones against the sides of the tub," Mommy Dearest said.
"Yes, Mommy Dearest," her teenaged daughter replied.
"Now-for the enema," Mommy Dearest said. She was grinning toothfully, not even trying to hide her glee from her daughter. Marjorie was fully aware that Mommy Dearest was getting kicks by abusing her in this manner. Marjorie figured that Mommy Dearest probably jerked herself off thinking about the ass purgings she administered upon her black-haired offspring whenever the virginal teenager wet the bed.
Mommy Dearest crossed the bathroom and threw open the lid of the dirty clothes hamper. With her right arm she reached into the hamper all the way to the bottom.
She found what she was looking for and pulled her hand back up. She had the black rubber bag.
The little girl thought that the bag looked very much like a hot water bottle. The major difference was that there was a long hose dangling from the bottom of this bag.
The little girl turned her head to one side, craning her neck, so she would be able to see what her nasty Mommy Dearest was doing.
The woman had the bag in the sink and she was rinsing it off. In retrospect it seemed very odd to Marjorie.
The beautiful black-haired bombshell thought it strange that she would want to grow up and be a dominatrix bitch.
The buxom professional dominatrix thought it most peculiar that she would want to grow up and be just like her Mommy Dearest.
"M-m-m-m-m-m-m-Mommy Dearest?" the little girl asked.
"Yes?" the evil woman answered without looking back.
"How much water are you going to put in the bag?"
"You foolish little girl. You don't know, do you?"
"No, Mommy Dearest," the little girl said nervously.
"Why, I am going to fill the bag to the brim."
"But my bowels c-c-c-c-can't hold that much."
"We are going to have to see about that," the woman said.
The little girl could see that there was a metallic clamp on the rubber hose and she knew from experience that that clamp was there to keep any of the water from flowing out through the nozzle prematurely.
The little girl could see that the plastic enema nozzle was a solid four inches long.
She could see that the nozzle was easily long enough to be correctly termed a syringe.
The enema nozzle also had a peculiar shape, which made sense if you thought about it.
The nozzle was thickest at the tip and skinniest at the base. There were several holes at the tip of the nozzle to allow the water to flow out.
The nozzle's tip was designed to push right up past the little girl's sphincter muscle.
The thick tip of the plastic syringe was supposed to push right into the little girl's colon.
The little girl's asshole-in turn- was supposed to grip desperately at the skinny base of the plastic syringe-thus locking the tip inside. She knew from experience that it would take a sharp tug to get the nozzle back out of her asshole after it was deeply inserted. Marjorie's high anxiety was enhanced by the fact that she felt as if she were ready to have a bowel movement anyway.
The little girl could feel the muscles in her legs getting weaker with each passing second.
The muscles in the little girl's shapely gams felt as if they had magically and suddenly been transformed into so much stale ginger ale.
Her knees were getting shaky-and the little girl was not at all sure how much longer her legs were going to be willing to support the weight of her body.
"Mommy Dearest?"
"Yes?"
"How hot is the water you are going to put in the bag?"
"Steamy hot."
"Scalding?"
"Almost."
"Oh my."
"It works best when it is hot."
"It hurts the most when it is hot, Mommy Dearest."
"That's one viewpoint, I suppose," Mommy Dearest exclaimed.
"Don't make me take all of that water, Mommy Dearest."
"And give me one good reason why not, bed wetter."
"Because you will m-m-m-m-m-make me explode."
"I don't think so," Mommy Dearest said nonchalantly.
"The punishment is out of sync with the crime."
"The punishment is in sync with the punisher."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," she groaned. The little girl could feel her heart becoming heavy with her near-overwhelming feelings of hopelessness and despair.
"I am going to make you feel like you have to shit worse than you have ever had to shit before. Yes, you are going to feel as you are going to explode. You will pray to die rather than hold the water another second longer. You will beg me to let you shit, but I will not let you shit. I am going to make you hold the water until you feel as if you are going to pass out from the horrible pain."
"Mommy Dearest-"
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"Let's get started," Mommy Dearest said. She had filled the bag. The little girl could tell that her Mommy Dearest had been telling the truth about the water being plenty hot. The little girl could see the steam rising from the top of the bag.
The evil older woman attached the full enema bag to the chrome overhead pole-the pole that supported the plastic shower-curtain.
The woman allowed the hose to single downward freely at first. None of the water was going to leak out through the holes at the tip of the nozzle because of the metallic clamp that was holding the hose closed.
The woman lightly caressed the little girl's buttocks, and Marjorie could tell that she was being touched in a way a Mommy Dearest was not supposed to touch her little girl.
The black haired teenager could feel herself getting a little sexually aroused as her own mother sensuously caressed her silky smooth fanny cakes. The little girl suppressed this incestuous horniness with all of her might for it filled her with guilt unlike any she had previously known.
"Ready?"
"I guess so."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"That's better."
The woman dug her left fingertips right up into the crack of the little girl's ass. She pulled those dark round buttocks apart as far as they could go.
"Relax your colon."
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Tense your asshole."
"Yes, Mommy Dearest."
"Don't panic."
"What if I fail?"
"You will have to try again and again," Mommy Dearest said.
"Until I get it right?" the little girl inquired.
"That's right, you filthy bed wetter," Mommy Dearest said.
Mommy Dearest ran the blunt tip of the plastic enema syringe up and down the entire length of the black-haired little girl's ass crack. Mobed the tip of that nozzle all the way from the y-shaped cleft at the top of the crack of the virginal teenager's ass to the inch-long patch of hypersensitive mucous membrane in between the little girl's asshole and the base of her unused cunt.
The little girl whimpered and whined each and every time the plastic tip of the enema syringe made direct contact with the slightly swollen mucous membranes at the mouth of her rectum.
This was something that Mommy Dearest could not help but notice. She stopped moving the nozzle up and down when the tip was poised right on the little girl's completely hairless pink asterisk of a bung hole.
The older woman then snapped her surprisingly strong wrist and drove the syringe up inside that fanny hole. The little girl could feel the syringe pushing right up past her sphincter and into her colon.
She could feel her anus desperately gripping at the skinnier base of the plastic syringe-just like it was supposed to.
Mommy Dearest wasted no time getting things started.
Mommy Dearest gave the hose a little tug just to make sure the nozzle was locked inside the way it was supposed to be.
It was.
Mommy Dearest then immediately removed the metallic clamp from the long rubber enema hose.
In this manner the amateur dominatrix allowed the water to start flowing into the girl's ass.
Marjorie's entire body jerked violently when the water first touched her inner colon.
The teenaged virgin could feel how hot the water was. It was hotter than steamy. There was actually a frightening moment or two when the little girl thought the insides of her bowels were being scalded by the water-but this did not turn out to be the case.
Naturally enough, the little girl's first instincts were to shit the water right back out-but she knew from experience that this would be a very big mistake.
The little girl managed to relax all of the muscles astride her colon while keeping her asshole closed as tightly as she could get it.
Her bowels filled.
The pain struck.
Her sweat ran cold.
Mommy Dearest laughed.
The little girl could feel her lower abdomen bloating outward as her bowels filled. She could feel horrible cramps ripping through her mid-section.
The little girl was glad that she was already in a jack-knifed position at the waist because she knew her horrible cramps would have only forced her into that position anyway.
The little girl's still-growing but already-large breasts looked even bigger than usual, because the force of gravity was in their favor, in their favor one-hundred percent.
It seemed to the little girl like it took an eternity, but she finally managed to take all of the water up inside her asshole.
She was bloated.
Ready to pop.
The little girl could feel her knees shaking worse than before. Mommy Dearest didn't seem in any particular hurry to pull the plug on her diminutive daughter's bung hole, in spite of the fact that the enema bag was empty and the little girl was full.
Finally, however, the cruel older woman did pull the plug. She pulled the plastic enema syringe out of her daughter's asshole every bit as quickly as she had originally inserted it.
The mouth of the black-haired virgin's rectum tugged out and sway from the rest of the cleavage between her buttocks before the thick tip of the syringe popped free-with an audible popping sound.
"You may release the water now, Marjorie."
"Thank you, Mommy Dearest," the teenaged virgin replied.
The little girl figured that these had to be the sweetest words she had ever heard.
Marjorie wasted no time relaxing her asshole for the first time in what seemed like a million years. Simultaneously, the diminutive virgin clamped down as hard as she could on ail of the muscles straddling her colon and her inner bowels.
She could feel her asshole opening. Her bung hole opened very wide.
Her nether eye opened until it was gaping. And then her asshole blustered violently and the little girl could hear herself making the loudest farting noise she had ever heard.
The farting noise was so loud that both the little girl and her Mommy Dearest could hear it echoing off the tiled walls of that suburban bathroom.
The water came shooting out of the little girl's asshole.
The water gushed outward and splattered the white tiled wail behind her. Her asshole looked as if it were doing a perfect impression of Old Faithful at showtime.
The little girl tilted the tub with stained water.
The little girl could smell the room instantly starting to reek with the scent of her inner bowels. Under ordinary circumstances this scent would have been considered most unpleasant-but there was nothing ordinary whatsoever about these circumstances.
These circumstances-if you want to know the truth-were extraordinary in every sense of the word, and the truth of the matter was that both Marjorie and Mommy Dearest rather liked the scent, the raw aroma, of the virginal teenagers stinky brown enema water.
The little girl's knees refused to support her any longer at that moment and she collapsed into the bottom of the tub. She rolled around in her own shit water until she was covered with the stuff, until her long black hair was soaked.
Mommy Dearest was no fun.
Neither was Daddy Darling.
What Daddy Darling did to the little girl was even worse.
She remembered that night too, just as if it had been yesterday. It had been a Friday night, in the spring.
Marjorie had been feeling particularly horny that night. She figured that just about everybody was hornier in the springtime at least a Little bit than they were during the rest of the year. It was like T.S. Eliot said, April was the cruelest month.
That spring, Marjorie was a virgin in every sense of the word.
She had never even been on a date. She had never been been kissed passionately.
She didn't even know what an orgasm felt like. Well, she couldn't do anything about the first two, not without a boyfriend, but she could do something about the third.
She had made up her mind on that fateful night that she was going to touch herself in an impure manner for the very first time in her life-and she was not going to stop her initial masturbatory session until she had found out what all of the fuss was about.
She would have locked her bedroom door, but she could not.
The truth of the matter was that the little girl's bedroom door did not have a lock. Up until this time the little girl had never needed a lock. She had never needed privacy.
Her folks rarely walked in on her without knocking anyway-so the little girl decided that the odds were against her getting caught, especially if she stayed underneath her covers while she was diddling herself for the first time.
The little girl got naked.
She got in bed under the covers.
She began to stroke her nipples.
She rocked back and forth.
She began to pant. She noticed immediately that everything felt a hell of a lot better than she thought it was going to.
Her heart pounded. She pinched and pulled at her nipples. She could feel her cunt getting swollen and wet. She stretched her long legs out in front of her toward the foot of the bed. Her extraordinarily long toes were tightly curled under.
The little girl was shifting the weight of her lower torso from one ass cheek to the other and then back again.
The little girl could tell that she would soon be making a wet spit on her sheet because of the juices that were oozing from her chaste cooze. She stroked her belly. She stroked her practically bald mound.
Indeed, the little girl's mound was even balder when she was in her early teens than it was when she was a full-fledged adult.
The little girl stroked up and down the insides of her thighs with the tips of her fingernails. Even back in those days she had long fingernails that were painted a dark red color to go with her olive complexion and black hair.
She stroked her cunt lips.
She had an urge, to cry out.
She bit her lip to stifle her seemingly inevitable cry of pleasure. Mommy Dearest and Daddy Darling were downstairs watching the color television in the livingroom.
She began to stroke her outer lips.
Her inner lips.
She touched her asshole. THAT felt a lot better than she thought it would. The little girl had never even considered her asshole an erogenous zone until she touched herself there almost by accident in a sensuous way.
The little girl massaged herself right to the edge of ecstasy and then touched her clit for the first time. She diddled herself until her muscles were all tensed and her breathing was so hard and fast that she was hardly breathing at all.
The little girl could feel herself pressing downward against the bed with the balls of her feet and the back of her head. She arched her back sharply and lifted her tensed ass cheeks right up off the bed. She arched herself so severely that she looked like a bow that was ready to shoot an arrow.
Unfortunately for the little girl her Daddy Darling was walking down the hall at that very moment, on his way toward the upstairs cabinet to get a fresh roll of toilet paper.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," the little girl screamed, while Daddy Darling was right outside her door.
Daddy Darling was drunk.
And he was in a mean mood. A mean and horny mood.
Daddy Darling's first thought was that the little girl was in pain, but then he recognized her exclamation as one of pleasure-and he successfully put two and two together.
He threw open her door and stood in the doorway like a bear. She had never been so frightened in her entire life.
"You little slut."
"Daddy Darling, I-"
"You fucking whore."
"Daddy Darling-"
"You little tramp."
"I'm sorry."
There were tears in her eyes.
"I suppose you have been putting out for every boy in town, and that's where you got a taste for touching your own pussy, huh?"
"Not true."
"You calling me a liar? Virgins sure as hell don't masturbate-that much I know for sure," Daddy Darling said.
"But I AM a virgin. I never even touched myself before, not until just now," she said.
"Liar," the man said. He slapped his little girl repeatedly across the face.
Marjorie could see stars before her dark brown eyes. He had struck her so hard and so often that the little girl found herself temporarily dazed and confused.
The man told her to stay where she was while he went to fetch some rope. The little girl didn't have the slightest idea what her Daddy Darling wanted rope for-and she had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't want to know.
"You been giving it to all of the other boys, well, you are gonna give it to me too," Daddy Darling said. The little girl's bed came with four bedposts at the corners which made it perfect for Daddy Darling's bondage purposes. She was to be bound and then she was to be fucked.
By her own father. The shame of it all.
It hurt to remember these things. She was tied spread-eagled on her back, much in the same manner that the grown woman would bind her male sex slaves.
Then Daddy Darling's hands went for his black leather belt. The little girl did not want to watch, but she could not help herself.
Some sort of morbid curiosity held her gaze fixed on Daddy Darling's crotch. She could see that there was a big bulge in the crotch of her father's trousers.
She could see that his cock looked ready to come ripping right out of his pants.
She could tell even before her bullish father had his drawers down that he was hung like a horse.
Daddy Darling unbuckled the brass buckle on his black leather belt and he unbuttoned the single button that held the top of his trousers together. The burly man used his right thumb and forefinger to pull the zipper to his fly all the way down to the bottom.
He then pushed his blunt, thick fingertips under the top of his pants, and he didn't stop pushing until the tips of his masculinely huge fingers were under the elastic at the top of his underwear as well.
Daddy Darling then pulled down his pants and his underwear at the same time.
His cock flopped out and the little girl thought she was going to croak when she got her first look at it.
It didn't take the little girl very long at all before she realized that she had grossly underestimated how large an aroused male cock was supposed to be. Daddy Darling's prick was almost twice as big as she had counted on it being.
She could see that Daddy Darling's prick was easily ten inches long-but the truth of the matter was that it was not the thickness of his cock that really got to her.
It was the girth of the man's pecker that really blew the little girl's mind. She could see that the head of his cock was easily as thick as both of her slender wrists pressed together.
The little girl found herself wondering how her tiny virginal cunt was ever going to open up far enough to take that cock head, but it was no use. Her imagination was not up to the task.
Her imagination was unable to conjure up an image of her cunt opening that far.
She tried to imagine how deep inside her lower belly the tip of the man's cock would have to push before her inner cunt lips would be able to grip that fleshy sword at its hilt.
Again her efforts were in vain. She couldn't imagined herself stretching inside far enough to take all ten inches of Daddy Darling's cock.
Daddy Darling pulled his pants and his underwear all the way down to his ankles with a toothy grin. Daddy Darling had lousy teeth. No one had ever asked Harold Kramer to recommend a dentist.
Daddy Darling then sprawled right on top of his daughter.
He could feel her tits being crushed against her chest. He could feel her nipples throbbing against his chest. Her nipples were hard and erect-with fear rather than with passion.
His upper torso was very heavy on her. He was so heavy that he was making it practically impossible for her to fill her lungs with air.
The little girl thought about Daddy Darling's cock. It was thickest at the head.
The head was shaped like an overgrown acorn, the type from which mighty oak trees grow. His cock head was shaped like a purple doorknob, or maybe a mushroom cap.
His cock head a deep purple color and the skin covering it was stretched extraordinarily thin and smooth by his thorough engorgement.
She could tell that the shaft of Daddy Darling's cock was slightly skinnier than the head-and it was also a slightly lighter shade of purple.
But it was just as hard.
As hard as rock.
As hard as granite.
As hard as a pillar of marble.
The little girl felt Daddy Darling lift his chest and loins so that she could look down between their bodies at his sexually aroused masculine genitalia.
She could see that there were many veins protruding from the underside of Daddy Darling's cock shaft, dilated veins that bulged outward from the otherwise smooth stem of her father's dong, making his cock look craggy and gnarled and angry.
Daddy Darling's cock certainly looked a hell of a lot more like an angry weapon than like an instrument of love-making-and that fact scared the living shit out of the chaste teenager.
Daddy Darling looked as if he were preparing to do a series of push-ups on top of the little girl, and in a sense he was. Then Daddy Darling supported the weight of his massive upper torso with his right hand exclusively. He reached back with his left hand and made a tight fist around the base of his cock.
